Holding Pattern
by write-error
Summary: Dante seems determined to keep flying around in stupid circles, and Lady's about ready to blast his ass out of the sky. Poor Nero gets to watch while it all crashes and burns. Dante x Nero. Yaoi.
1. Last Day of Magic

**Disclaimer**: I have nothing to do with Devil May Cry in any official capacity, and am writing this for fun. LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED. *riddles living room with bullets*

**Rating**: Eventual M

**Pairing**: Dante x Nero

**Genre**: Romance/Humour

**Warnings**: Yaoi. Language, eventual sexytimes, possible OOC

**Summary**: Dante seems determined to keep flying around in stupid circles, and Lady's about ready to blast his ass out of the sky. Poor Nero gets to watch while it all crashes and burns. Dante x Nero.

* * *

-o-o-O-o-o-

**Holding** **Pattern**  
_by Write-Error_

_._

**Prologue:  
****Last Day of Magic**

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

What if you move, what if you hide  
There's only so much you can miss  
Before we both collide  
My little tornado,  
My little hurricane, oh

_- The Kills_

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

"You have a copy of Mermaid Rock? I thought the only pressing of that record was crazy small!" Nero stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, holding his bag of records with awed disbelief written all over his face. Then, he cocked his head to the side and his blue eyes narrowed in a suspicious glare. "Wait." His arms crossed in front of him. "You're fuckin' with me again, aren't you."

Dante grinned and raised his eyebrow. "Check the jukebox yourself when we get back." He started walking again, enjoying how the kid was rooted to the spot by the sudden revelation of his greatness.

It was nice to have someone with decent taste in music around the place. Lady's was a slightly off-putting mix of raw girl-wailing and distorted, draggy electronic music. Trish, on the other hand. . . Dante had heard more than enough of her crap in the car. It was hard to tell whether she was yanking his chain in her subtle way, or whether she just didn't understand the difference between good and bad. Maybe anything sounded good when a person was used to all Mundus, all the time, with no commercial breaks.

The duo had just come off a job earlier that evening; they were now making their way back to the office. Not a soul blinked at the sight of them, though they were both fully armed and smeared in unidentified demonic effluvia. It hadn't taken Nero long after his arrival a few weeks back to settle in and get used to leaving his arm uncovered. Now, he was just another fixture around the neighbourhood, and he barely gave it a thought - at least outside. He still got a bit nervous about it when meeting someone new, but just walking around with it exposed was no longer a big deal.

They'd done a decent number of jobs on foot due to Dante's vehicular curse. As soon as he got a car he liked, some kind of demon would land on it so hard that it took forever to scrape the cash up to fix it. Luckily, his bike was more durable. Nero planned to get one too when he'd saved enough. For some reason, the kid hadn't been too happy when Dante told him they could get a sidecar and some goggles for him.

Dante blew a lock of hair out of his eyes. The day's mission hadn't been all that interesting - just another item on Lady's "kill that, get paid, give me the cash" list. He could have finished it alone, but it had become a habit to drag Nero along if he didn't have a job of his own that day.

Nero's mix-ups were damned entertaining to watch. The two of them had a good time learning how to coordinate themselves too, which was basically all the fun that could be had with crowds of demons that were barely above pest level. Just when Dante thought the kid was in a tight situation, he would pull some random move out of his ass that he'd never tried before.

He didn't have Dante's finesse or experience - not that anyone else could fight with that kind of class. He was good in his own right. The kid used his grace, speed, and strength to blend his weapon-work and street-brawling style into some kind of crazy dance. His devil bringer made it easy for him to remain airborne, and he launched foes into the air, grabbed onto them to fling himself skyward, and continued beating them into submission. It all came off as an acrobatic, aerial performance with a side of down-and-dirty beatdown. He was constantly changing his approach on the fly, and it was always fun to watch. Nero was intense - a flurry of fire, steel, bullets and the blue flash of his fist. When he got into it, it was obvious that he had a damn good time kicking ass, too.

Given that he'd been brought up in that stuffy obsessive Order, Dante was doubly impressed with the way Nero had turned out. Dante was glad he hadn't had that balls-out craziness trained out of him. The pretentious ceremonial crap hadn't penetrated his hard head. Nero was good at killing things. Monotony was one of them - it was great to watch the kid giving demons shit and bravado. He knew how to party.

The kid gave him shit, too, but he didn't mind all that much. When he'd first arrived from Fortuna, Nero had been skittish and quiet around the office - nothing like the mouthy punk Dante'd thought he had signed up for. It had seemed like the kid had believed Dante would suddenly notice him, wonder why the hell he'd let him stay, think better of it, and throw him out.

It hadn't taken long for that situation to change. Now, Nero was constantly storming around the place, leaving his stuff everywhere, yelling, napping on the couch in bizarre sprawled positions that showcased a stunning degree of flexibility, and trying to trick Dante into eating food that didn't come baked onto a pizza crust. Nero was obviously getting comfortable with his new situation. Dante still wasn't sure whether this was an extended visit or a more permanent arrangement, but he found himself hoping that Nero would be in it for the long haul.

Dante hadn't asked why he'd left Fortuna. After all, who in their right mind wouldn't leave Fortuna? The place was a shithole in every way but appearance – the only thing it had going for it was the architecture. He was curious about the kid's reasons, but Nero would probably tell him in his own time. It probably had something to do with the girl as she seemed to be his only connection in that city, but he wasn't about to push.

Until then, it wasn't really a concern because Nero's presence had generally improved Dante's quality of life. For one thing, every week or so, the kid would get fed up with the state of things and do something around the office - usually something that would make it slightly less like a dump. Missions went by faster, too. A good fight was one thing - Dante loved those. Most of his jobs were pretty far from that though, featuring the usual suspects – just meat to be wasted. The extra pair of hands helped get the pointless busywork over with so the two half-demons could kick back and relax. Dante had always thought of himself as being perfectly happy being on his own, but Nero was good company and didn't mind when Dante just wanted to hang around the office and nap.

The only bad thing about getting more jobs done and getting paid was, of course, Lady. She had some kind of preternatural sense for when money would be crossing the threshold of Devil May Cry. She seemed to be okay with the new addition to the team though, which was good at least, given she could be a total bitch to deal with if she didn't like how things were going down.

Nero had wondered aloud once whether she could smell money. Some days, that theory didn't seem that far-fetched. Out of sheer self-preservation, especially now that Nero was at DMC, Dante had gotten into the habit of doing his shopping before heading home. Today, as usual, they were in no hurry to head home. He'd asked Nero if he wanted to get anything. Capulet was great in that pretty much everything was open late.

Nero had two things on his list: some real food, and something new to listen to.

They'd hit Cappy's Foodmart, getting dirty looks for leaving drippy purple boot-prints in the produce section. Then, to the drugstore. Nero had grabbed some bandages, antiseptic, cotton balls, icy-hot, and pain-killers before following the other man to the end aisle – the first aid box at the office was pretty much empty. It turned out Dante was taking his sweet time picking out a box of rubbers with an exaggerated air of cluelessness. He'd earnestly asked for Nero's opinion on what "sensitive" might mean, and whether that was more important than "textured for stimulation."

Nero just froze and seethed at him through slitted eyes, resembling a pissed-off cat under the bright fluorescent lighting. Dante missed that first week when he could get the kid beet red every other minute. The cashier snapped her gum and watched them from under her lashes. Her eyebrow inched towards her hairline when she saw their combined purchases. Nero swore under his breath, turned on his heel and exited the store, leaving Dante laughing by the counter as the woman rang his purchases through.

Then, the record shop.

The place looked more like a permanent indoor garage sale than a shop. There was no telling what colour the carpet had been originally. A healthy layer of dust covered pretty much every surface, and the parts that were clean only emphasized the weird grayish colour of everything else. Unperturbed, Nero went to town with a wicked-looking grin, digging through milk-crates full of 45s like it was Christmas. After a while, he surfaced with a few old gems of thrashy, dirty, lo-fi punk rock. Nipple Twister, Daze of Ruin, Three Bitch Sandwich, Rot and Bones, Sektor 3. . .

Yeah, it just figured that Nero's picks were more than ten years old and barely anyone knew of them even then. Dante would have liked to know how the hell a kid in that walled garden had ended up hearing this stuff in the first place. Fortuna was not on the bleeding edge of anything, unless you counted sanity. A smile curved his mouth as he flipped idly through the box in front of him, covertly watching Nero as he rummaged around in the crates.

Yeah, the kid had taste, all right. No wonder he fought the way he did. He'd picked music for one hot party.

"This is awesome," Nero said, glancing up with a satisfied smirk and a happy glint in his eye. "You have no idea how hard it was to get anything interesting into Fortuna. I basically had to wait for out of town trips - the Order's supply runs, basically - and have stuff mailed to the inn where I was crashing. It was a pain in the ass. . ."

They had continued on their way. Dante carried the groceries; the other had the bag of records. The older man had to laugh; Nero looked ridiculously pleased with himself - wide blue eyes, a faint flush of excitement creeping over his normally pale skin, and that rare gleeful smile. His eyes got bigger and shinier when Dante mentioned the crowning jewel of his jukebox collection.

"I can't believe you have that. . . Wait." Nero stopped suddenly. "Dante. You keep it in that jukebox?"

"No, it's wrapped in cotton batting and I pet it each night as I drift off to sleep." He rolled his eyes. "What do you think, kid? Of course it's in the jukebox. It's for listening to, not collecting."

Nero clapped his hand over his forehead and groaned. "Dante. What the hell. I'm not saying it should be in a safe, but don't you worry about it at all? Lady has a thing for shooting that room up. Hell, sometimes you shoot that room up. You can't hang a picture in there without digging a bullet out of the wall first, and you can't tell me demons haven't come by looking for a fight."

Dante tapped Nero's temple. "Nuh-uh. Hold up and think about it. Lady likes riddling _me _with hot lead. My strategy is, stay the hell away from the jukebox when she's on the rag or I'm pissing her off. Plus, the juke's way tougher than you think. The apocalypse could come down on us and that thing would be playin' the soundtrack while it all went to hell. Keep it cool. It works out fine." He frowned. "Except for the getting shot part - damn."

The younger man hitched the record-shop bag over his shoulder and continued on with a huff, with Dante following at his usual lazy pace. The sun had fully set while they'd been out shopping. "About that. It's weird." Nero's voice brought Dante up short. He sounded careful, like when he'd first moved in.

"Yeah? Well, getting shot hurts, kid. You think I like it?" Dante kept his voice as neutral as possible.

They continued walking. "Nah, it's not that. I mean, of course it hurts. That's not. . . shit." Nero sighed. "What kind of friends shoot each other when they're just a little pissed off? And you just. . . take it."

Dante shrugged and bumped Nero's shoulder. "It's not like it just suddenly became that way. It's just that it never changed. She shot me in the head right off the bat, and it didn't seem that bad with the shit going on at the time." Nero snorted in disbelief and bumped Dante back. "Really, a little girl shooting me in the head was only a minor annoyance given the situation. But after you know someone for a long time, you just get used to things being a certain way. It perpetuates, and by the time you realize it sucks, things are on rails. Getting them on another track seems like a losing battle. And there you are, getting shot and cleaned out all the time like it's no big deal."

Nero was quiet for a little while as they continued on their way, like he was mulling over Dante's words. "Huh," he commented. "But. . . that's fuckin' terrible!" Dante looked at the kid, curious. He was probably more pissed off than he should have been. "Maybe you get used to being a certain way, with a certain person. But it's not right for things to. . . just stay that way. You've got to say or do something to change it, old man!"

The kid's voice had increased in volume. It was actually kind of heartwarming that he was getting all puffed up and offended on Dante's behalf, but there was something else there too, and the older man wasn't ready to press him on it. Yet.

"But if you change things, there's no telling where they'll end up. Plus she'd probably just shoot me a lot more if I brought it up."

Nero scowled. "Goddamn it, are you really just too fucking lazy to give her hell for using you as target practice?"

Dante wasn't all that comfortable thinking about this kind of shit. Maybe he was even less comfortable with how he felt about the kid's protective indignation. Right. This was just going to an awkward place, where he would probably get more attached to Nero – it wasn't his fault, it would just happen, with the kid being the way he was – and Dante had enough problems rolling with things already.

_Time to derail this train._

He grabbed Nero around the neck with his free arm. It was a cross between a one-armed man-hug and a headlock. Hugging for teasing purposes was safe. It was on the bro level to which he aspired.

Dante was getting a bizarre amount of pleasure from Nero's weak-ass struggle to escape without damaging what he was carrying. Fat chance of that happening. "Aww, Nero," he teased, rubbing his stubbly chin against the top of the kid's head in an approximation of a noogie. "You're all worried about little old me?"

He heard Nero make a disgusted sound. Dante narrowly dodged a kick aimed at his ass.

"Let go of me!"

Dante sniffed at Nero's hair and paused. "Hey, have you been using my shampoo? Anyway - hey, stop it tiger, we're having a bro moment here - let me just say," he continued as Nero tried to bite his arm, teeth clicking together and making a snapping noise. "I don't enjoy teeth. . . no, that wasn't where I was going. Where was I? Oh. Let me just say there's no way I'd die from a mean old bullet and leave my baby Nero all by himself and helpless with the scary-"

"What the fuck? Okay, I understand why she shoots you," Nero sniggered, surprisingly not pissed off at Dante's antics. His breath was coming out in warm puffs against the older man's wrist. When Dante's grip suddenly relaxed, he took advantage and retaliated with a head-butt in the face.

Dante winced, clutching his hand to his nose to check it was still intact. "Ow! Jeez kid," he complained. "We were having a bonding moment there, and then like always you start with the hitting and the violence. I'm starting to think you don't want me to hold you and keep you close by me alw-"

Nero sighed in frustration and clapped his demonic hand over Dante's mouth. "Shut up," Nero said, ignoring the dramatics. "Ugh. Well, no matter how annoying you can be, it's not cool to just put a bullet in you. I mean, maybe I should suggest punching? She's wasting ammo and putting important cultural artifacts at risk. It needs to stop." He gave Dante a serious look that broke into a smile. Then, he took his hand back, turning on his heel and continuing down the sidewalk like nothing had happened.

Dante blinked, and then shook his head to clear it. He licked his lips.

Nothing had happened. Really.

"C'mon old man, I want to listen to these before you need a hearing aid."

Dante just laughed as they continued on their way. The stubborn warmth in his chest was a little stronger than before.

_Don't think about it._

They headed home.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

* * *

**A.N.** - I haven't been exposed to anything but the games and don't remember much about the anime, so assume I am living in a bubble without the manga/novels/whatever else is out there.

Nothing heavy here, it's just gonna be a cheesy romance story (that's how I roll). I'm terrified of long multi-chapters, so this is like rehab for me. I plan for this to be 6-8 chapters, and it's coming together faster than usual (I write at the pace that a glacier moves). Any band names that are actually in use by bands are a complete coincidence. Nipple Twisters sounds like it probably would exist, now that I think about it. . .

If you find errors that slipped through my proofreading, please c&p into a pm or review, and I'll fix it. I sat here for seriously 40 minutes trying to think of a title and a summary. So sad.

Thanks for reading. Any reviews, comments or criticisms are appreciated.

-Volpa


	2. Ghost Pressure

**Disclaimer**: I am writing this for fun and have nothing to do with Devil May Cry in any official capacity, even though I type with the FEEL of 60 wpm. What a bunch of jokers. . .

**Rating**: Eventual M

**Pairing**: Dante x Nero

**Genre**: Romance/Humour

**Warnings**: Yaoi. Language, eventual sexytimes, possible OOC

**Summary**: Dante seems determined to keep flying around in stupid circles, and Lady's about ready to blast his ass out of the sky. Poor Nero gets to watch while it all crashes and burns. Dante x Nero.

* * *

**Holding Pattern**

by Write-Error

.**  
**

**Chapter 1:  
Ghost Pressure**

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

Heard a call from the empty street  
An empty room, empty seats  
I know they're dancing there invisibly

Little vision, come shake me up

You said your heart was a swarm of bees  
Held your throat so they would never leave  
I hear them buzzing there invisibly

- _Wolf Parade_

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Dante knew the steps approaching the door, so he didn't react at all when it opened and he heard someone closing in on his desk. Playing possum never really worked out for him, but sometimes it delayed the inevitable demands.

"Hey Dante, it's been awhile." He heard the dull clank of Lady's weapons coming to rest on the floor. "Three guesses as to what I'm here for."

The proprietor of Devil May Cry removed the magazine from his face with a scowl, kicking his desk in just the right spot to get the drawer to open. He pulled out a wad of bills and tossed it on the top of the desk, shoving the drawer shut with his foot before replacing his booted feet back on the top of the desk.

"Yep. It's been a pleasure as usual, but I've got things to do. Don't let the door hit you on your way out," he deadpanned, sketching an old fashioned bow from his chair. He snagged another lukewarm slice of pizza out of the box and started picking the olives off it.

"Sure you do. As usual, you look ever so busy." Ignoring him as usual, Lady quickly counted the bills and then slid them into one of the pouches she had strapped around her hips with a toss of her uneven dark locks. She cocked her hip to the side and crossed her arms, looking around the room – for something to complain about, no doubt.

If Dante ignored her enough, maybe she'd go away and leave him in peace. It hadn't worked before, but he was a bit of an optimist - it was possible it could suddenly start.

Nope. She was still talking.

"I'm actually here to see Nero. I just got back from a job, and I think I could have used his help. Thought I might ask him to tag along on a couple of missions so I could get a feel for how he works in case I need him later on." She checked her watch with a flick of the wrist. "Don't tell me he's asleep?"

Dante made a big production of spreading his arms wide. "As you can see, the kid isn't here. What about Trish," Dante asked carelessly through a mouthful of pizza.

She was glaring at him through her sunglasses. "Why is this like pulling teeth? Trish is still off in Europe on that assignment - left a week ago. It got complicated, so it could be another month or so from what she said. She can't be my backup."

"Well, Nero can't either. He went back to Fortuna for a bit."

Lady pulled her shades off and raised an eyebrow. "Why? I thought that town was a wreck. Whatever's left of those Order goons are scrambling around aimlessly, and it didn't seem like he had family there or anything. What's the deal?"

The only response she got was a vague shrug. "Personal shit, I guess." Dante flipped his magazine open to a random page and started reading an ad for some unspecified kind of hair loss treatment with laser-like focus. Wow. The ad was really not convincing.

"Uh huh. Well if you're going to be like that, then when's he going to be back? I really would like to see if we can work together a little more. The kid's good for business, and time is money." Lady said, patting the ammo case where she'd tucked Dante's cash. It was more than he was usually able to hand over – a testament to the added earnings Nero brought to the shop.

Dante shrugged again, nose still buried in the magazine. It was unclear what the ad was actually selling. A drug? Some kind of spray-on hair?

He saw her shadow fall over his desk and then the latest issue of Two Guns was quickly wrenched out of his hands. "Hey," he frowned. "Give a guy a break, huh? I was reading that."

He did not like Lady's knowing nod as she glanced at the page before dropping it back on his desk. "Riiight. You seem so concerned about your male pattern balding. Look Dante, I don't have time for your weird moping. Is Nero coming back or what? He just took off without saying anything?"

Dante leaned back in his chair. "He said he was going back to take care of some things. I didn't exactly ask what it was because I don't like being prying and invasive - I figure he'll be back eventually. He left most of his stuff here. If you want to know about it, maybe you should go to Fortuna and ask him yourself. Because you're prying and invasive," he added pointedly.

"Someone's grumpy."

"You're always grumpy, so don't go playing that card," Dante griped.

"Right Dante – wish I'd known before stopping in that you were having cramps." She smirked and nudged the magazine back towards him. "Anyway, when you next see Nero, let him know I was looking for him." Lady stretched, and reached to sling Kalina-Ann over her shoulder again.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. You have business."

"Business, sure," Lady said with a little smirk on her mouth.

Well, that was a weird tone. Dante looked at her suspiciously.

"But hey, bringing that piece of eye-candy with me on a job does come with side benefits," Lady continued.

Dante looked at her for a second like she'd grown another head, and then let out a barking laugh. "Haha! Oh, that's funny. This is the first time you've even hinted that you've got a sex drive." His eyes widened in pretend shock. "Does this mean you're looking to breed? I'm getting scared."

"Oh come on, Dante. Contrary to your opinion of yourself, people who aren't interested in the contents of your weird fake-cowboy-boot chaps are not lacking a sex drive. They just have taste. And Nero. Well," Lady gave Dante a sidelong look. "I ain't blind," she drawled.

Dante shivered in the face of Lady's unprecedented behaviour. The woman was bad enough when she acted like she usually did, but whatever new shit she was on was not cool at all. "Well, don't get your hopes up about dragging him back into your mantis den." Dante grabbed another slice and munched on it. "He's got a girl. Buttoned-up religious type. You know what that means - she's secretly super-freaky and ready to unleash at a moment's notice. He won't have any juice left to wind your biological clock. Man, it just figures you'd want a young guy to boss around and terrorize."

Lady only shrugged – Dante had thought he'd get a gun in the face for that one. Weirder and weirder. "All I said was he's hot, not that I'm looking to rape him. Sheesh. But even so, how is his little nun relevant anyway? He can't be two places at once. There's nothing like distance to change things around. Of course, I guess that only applies if he comes back to stay here."

With a smirk and a shift of the rocket-launcher on her back, Lady gave a little wave and headed for the door. "Let me know if any good jobs come up. I'll be back in a few days, so keep putting that cash away."

"Got it," Dante grunted. There was nothing to do around the place, so he grabbed his magazine and placed it back over his face for a nap.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

The days went by, and Dante's mood remained in the doldrums. At least Lady would be pleased – his need to vent his frustration had results, in a sense. He'd ended up taking on more work than he usually would without anyone riding him about it.

It had been a while since he'd been in this kind of funk. One thing he felt thankful for was that his personal collections agency hadn't been around much. He couldn't take many more snide comments from her about how he was PMS-ing like a bitch. It wasn't really his fault the kid was from a shitty burg and that Dante couldn't help but be a bit concerned about how that was going.

Fortuna was a crappy place to be, from what he'd seen and gleaned from Nero. Not that he ever really said anything about that place. The only time the kid ever brought his home town up in conversation was when he was making an unfavorable comparison with something he liked in Capulet. Sometimes, afterwards, the kid would just sort of stare off into space, looking a little lost and irritated.

The thing was, a person could never fully get away from their roots. Dante had that lesson drummed into him when he'd been younger than Nero was now. You could run and run, but eventually whatever dogged your heels would find you. All running did was tire a man out. In the long term, it was easier to accept that, deal with it and then make what you would of yourself.

However, in most cases, people didn't come from a place run by crazy, demon-worshipping, closed-minded cultists. That was probably why Dante was worried. Oh, the kid could take care of himself, sure. The two of them had pretty much wiped out all the Order's fucked up angel/soldiers, and other than them and the demons from the gates, Fortuna beasties hadn't been much of a party.

But Dante wasn't worried about demons. The fact that the kid had been borderline neurotic about his arm when he'd first shown up at Dante's place implied he'd grown up strong in spite of his surroundings, rather than because of them. That cocky attitude often came out when a kid was just desperate not to be ignored anymore – or when someone was sick of getting attention for all the worst reasons, and just wanted to take control of it in whatever way they could.

So yeah, his worry that the kid was being traumatized was a total buzz-kill, and leading to incomprehensible phenomena. For instance, he hadn't really tasted the last pizza he'd ordered – just shoved it down and it was gone before he even noticed he wasn't enjoying it. That was a straight-up crime fit to make a pizza shop worker weep.

Now that he thought about it, he'd let Nero go just assuming he'd come back. He hadn't really come up with a figure on how many days could reasonably elapse. How long before concluding that things had gone either really wrong – or maybe so right that the kid wasn't coming back at all? The amount of freaking out Dante was doing inside was leading to more freaking out over how anxious he was acting. He was used to shit just rolling off him, and there was no concrete reason to be so worried anyway. Maybe Nero was having a great time with his lady, or hanging out with friends he'd never mentioned. Maybe he'd call up and ask Dante to ship his stuff out to him because he was going to move back home.

This worrying shit was absurd. To top it all off with another layer of stupidity, Dante didn't even know the kid's phone number. This weird feeling could have been resolved just by making up an excuse to call up and ask what the kid's plans were. Nero had a cell phone, after all. It was a basic candy-bar thing with a camera - he'd once used it to take a really unflattering picture of Dante's nostrils while he was asleep, to show him the huge booger that been threatening to emerge and take the office over - but he did keep it charged. Dante had never seen him use it for calls, so it had slipped his mind to get that number. It hadn't seemed to matter. He'd spent the lion's share of the past few weeks within yelling distance, anyway. Now, though, he was really regretting not getting the kid to write it on a post-it or something.

Dante grumbled. He was lying on the couch in ripped jeans that used to be black. The soft t-shirt he was wearing had washed into a similar grayish colour, and it had shrunk a bit since its heyday. For a few days now, Dante hadn't even bothered getting dressed to go out, and here he was on a Saturday night looking like he'd given up on life or something.

It was pretty lame to be spending his time like this. Dante was starting to feel like a neglected boyfriend - no, no, no. Like a big bro waiting for a kid out past curfew. Maybe he should go out for a drink. Or a sundae! No, wait, he didn't feel like it - last time, the waitress chickie had asked after his "cute friend," and it would be pointless if he was trying to take his mind off obsessing about the kid's state of mind.

Hey, why not go to Love Planet and get his rocket launched? He hadn't been by there in a little while. He hadn't really been drinking much either, come to think of it. Maybe it was time to put in some face-time and remind everyone who the sexy king of Slum Street was. With that thought in mind, Dante dragged his mopey ass up the stairs and into the shower.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

When Dante wandered out of the steaming bathroom and back into his bedroom, he realized most of his good clothes were still in the laundry room behind the kitchen.

Well, that wouldn't do.

He dried off and slung the towel over his shoulder, padding down the stairs in his bare feet. He wasn't really in any real rush to do anything now that he had plans for the evening lined up. In the kitchen, he got a drink of water from the fridge, leaning against the counter top. Through the frame of the window's faded drapes, the clouds were barely hanging onto the last rays of the sun that had gone over the horizon. He had good timing. In an hour or so, the night at Love Planet would already be in full swing.

Leaving the glass in the sink, he went down the rickety stairs to the laundry area, grabbed his gear, and hurriedly made his way back into DMC's main room. Damn, the basement floor was cold; he was getting goose-bumps and his bare feet were freezing. Maybe he should throw a rug down there or something.

Approaching his desk, he stretched, cracking his back, and continued on towards the stairs – but out of the corner of his eye, the couch looked lumpier than it should have been.

Dante turned and was finally able to see that it was Nero. It wasn't the usual Nero, either. The kid looked completely inanimate - like he'd fused to the couch and become a part of the furniture. He was lying there completely motionless, face-down on the upholstery with his forehead buried against his arm.

Nero's typical nap positions seemed to involve him splaying his limbs out and taking as much room as possible, and sometimes randomly twitching and kicking. Dante was a bit unsettled at the sight of this strange, motionless log that happened to be wearing Nero's clothes.

Was he asleep? Was he dead? Colonized by some kind of alien? What the hell was wrong with him, and when had he gotten there?

"Nero?" Dante called out. "Hey! Kid!"

Nero shifted slightly and seemed to sigh. Dante started. He wasn't asleep after all, just lying there completely awake with his face planted against the leather. Dante had the oddest feeling that storm-clouds were going to start gathering over the kid at any second.

"Hey, Dante," he responded quietly after a few moments, voice a little hoarse and muffled in the fabric of his sleeve. "Sorry. I thought you were out. I'm kinda. . ."

Dante frowned. Nero was pretty much cringing into the couch like he wanted it to swallow him. His bag, coat, and sword case were discarded at different locations between the couch and the door, as though the kid had just dragged himself in, dropped his shit and collapsed. It looked like things really had gone wrong in Fortuna. That goddamn shithole - was there anything about that place that _didn't_ suck? Now it appeared to have sucked Nero's soul right out of his body. The town was ridiculous.

"What the hell is wrong?" Dante asked, with a bit more anger than he'd intended. He was getting pissed off, and even he could recognize how unreasonable this was. "You disappear for ages and show up again without so much as a hello? And what's with this, you look half-dead, kid - what the hell happened to you?"

Nero stiffened. "Fuck off! Like I need you riding me like this after the week I've had! Would it kill you to leave me alone for a bit?" Nero turned his head slightly towards Dante, raising his human hand to quickly rub over his face. "Ugh. Fine. If you're not gonna go, I'm just gonna go to my room and crash out, so- OH MY GOD, MY EYES!"

Dante was a little alarmed. He moved closer, yanked the kid's hand away and examined Nero's eye area carefully. They were a little red-rimmed and swollen. His irises were darting around madly. Oh shit, the kid was really upset, wasn't he? Dante was starting to feel a little bad for giving him shit when he was obviously dealing with something heavy.

"Hey kid, something wrong?" he asked, leaning closer to get a better look at Nero's face in the dim lighting.

Nero sat up suddenly, yanking his wrist out of Dante's grip. His hand clapped over his eyes as though he were in pain. "I'll say! You're bare-assed naked!" he sputtered, recoiling. Dante frowned and stepped forward. "Stop! No closer! I mean it, I can still hear you moving!"

It was only then that Dante realized he really was crowding Nero. He looked down at what was at Nero's eye level. "Oh, right. Ah. Sorry."

Nero seemed to take that this as a sign that it was safe to uncover his eyes again. It wasn't. He slammed his palm back over his eyes with a smacking sound that made Dante wince. "Ow. For fuck's sake, stop swinging your tackle around in my face! I don't need you trying to slap me in the head with your sausage! That would sure top everything off, wouldn't it? Jeez," Nero mumbled, sounding mortified.

Dante grinned. Goddamn it, the kid always managed to make him laugh, even when he was apparently miserable. "Oh yeah. I didn't mean to impress you so much all of a sudden. Must've been a huuuge shock to your system," he teased, moving the pile of clothes so it was in front of his crotch. "Okay, it's safe for your virgin eyes now."

Nero parted a couple of fingers and peeked, then quickly closed them again. "Daaante," he ground out through clenched teeth. "You can't just hold your hand in front of you and pretend like you're wearing clothes, ok? I can't talk to you like this."

Dante nodded and rubbed his chin with the hand that wasn't shielding his modesty. "Yeeaaaah, I get it kid. I'm just too amazing. It's like staring at the sun. You'll be blinded. It's okay, I understand, it happens to everyone."

Nero dropped his hand and glared, deep blue eyes sparking over reddened cheeks. "So, you were trying to blind me with your cock? Didn't anyone ever tell you it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye?" He flopped back on the couch and shook his head. "Now I'm gonna have nightmares. Thanks man." He sighed. "Just. . . oh whatever. I'm going to go to bed and nap or something." He got to his feet and slowly dragged his way up the stairs.

Dante frowned at the waves of stress and depression emanating from his slowly trudging form. "Hey. Nero."

Nero paused on the steps but didn't look back. "Yeah?"

"Even if you're a total prude, it's good to have you back. You're sticking around, right?"

The tense lines of Nero's back and shoulders relaxed slowly. "Thanks. I. . . I'm glad to be back, and I don't really plan on going back to Fortuna ever again." He sighed. "Now go put on some damned pants or something," he looked back over his shoulder. "It's totally the nude beach phenomenon – the people who want to show their stuff are the weird-lookin' old guys!" he snickered.

Dante raised his hands, mock offended. Nero slapped a hand back over his eyes. "Hey, you know this body is 100% blazing hotness! You're lucky I'm not gonna charge you for the close-up!" he called after the kid's back. He paused, a puzzled frown crossing his face. "Hey, wait, when the hell did you go to a nude beach, anyway?"

"Ha! Wouldn't you like to know, old man!" The door to Nero's room closed, and Dante headed back up to get changed with a grin on his face.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

So, as it turned out, bringing Nero to Love Planet and getting him shit-faced hadn't been the best idea Dante had ever had.

At the time, it had seemed like the best course of action. Sure he wanted to go out, but at the same time it didn't seem appropriate to let Nero out of his sight. He was depressed, feeling down, moping all by himself in his room. It was not productive. The only cure for whatever lingering bullshit was eating at him was to party - at least, that's what Dante had thought, because it was basically his go-to solution for every damn thing that ailed him.

Unfortunately, there was no party to be had. Nero was a sad and talky drunk. A few of the girls had wandered their way towards the table to say hi, but Dante's carefully disinterested body language was mostly successful at maintaining a bubble of 'don't come here, seriously' around the two of them. He had decided that he should stick close to the kid. Nero looked like he was permanently hovering on the edge of tears. He didn't need any more stress. Dante had already brought him to this place and filled him with beer; now all that was left to Dante was damage reduction. He hoped nothing got the kid seriously upset in his vulnerable state.

Man. Sometimes he wondered where his planning skills had come from.

"And sho that was why that happened," the kid continued, morose. He was staring into Dante's eyes with the expression of a kicked puppy. At least he was cute to look at; this conversation was going nowhere and was taking forever to get there. Nero had been telling Dante random details for the last fifteen minutes. Most of it was disconnected and incoherent. The only thing Dante had been able to glean so far was that the trip to Fortuna had been shitty, and that the Kyrie girl was the biggest reason for the shit - and he could easily have guessed that on his own. The kid really needed some tips on how to build a narrative.

Nero's elbow was on the table and his left hand was supporting his chin, but he kept slipping off slightly and correcting. "That's when I shaid. No, wait, I didn't. I can never shay what I think to her or argue when I just. . . I just don't unnerstand what she wanns. Hard to deal with rejection. Or jusht being ignored all the time you know, like I'm not even worth being rejected."

Dante winced. Seriously, the kid was in a bad way. Droopy sad eyes, slurred mumbling. Total nonsense.

"You dunno about that 'cause that don't happen to ya Dante. Oh, but Kyrie, she had this creepy little dog once named Shparky. What a shit name. It was this one day when Credo was layin' into me because he thought I washn't fully applying myshelf in the Order of the Bored–"

Dante had to grin at that one.

"Like apply myshelf to what exactly? It was so shtupid there. There was even that one guy, what was hish name. The idiot quartermaster who was trying to hit on some of ush livin' in the barracks, as if he could get blowjobs in exchange for, I dunno, socks or some lame shit like that-"

A tan-skinned woman with long, platinum-blond hair sauntered up to the table. She was obviously unable to pick up on the fact that the two men were in the middle of a seriously nonsensical story - one which had a surprising homosexual twist. Damn, just when the kid was starting to talk about something slightly interesting, of course they had to be interrupted.

Wait. Dante was stunned, sitting there with rambling, depressed Nero on one side and a foxy broad on the other. Had he really just thought a hot babe should shove off, on the off-chance that Nero would actually be able to complete a thought about pathetic sock-bribery shenanigans going on in the Order? Speaking of which, wow. That town just reeked of failure; even their sex scandals were weird and boring.

That was it. It was time to lay down the law. Nero had to cheer up, and fast. All of this was fucking with Dante's head a bit too much for comfort. He smiled at the new arrival.

"Hey there, Dante," the girl murmured, sliding her hands down her sides and smoothing the violet stretch-satin dress over her curves. She leaned over slightly, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Long time no see. It's been quite some time since since you've been here on one of my nights. How are things?" Her dark gaze slid over to where Nero was blushing and trying not to look at her breasts too obviously.

"Hey there, doll. Life's good, can't complain! How are you doing?" Dante gave her his most charming smile, despite his growing irritation with the niceties.

His mind was racing. What was her name again. . . damn it. . . They'd had a good time one night a while back. Well, Dante pretty much never had a bad time. Sex was like pizza, as they said – even when it wasn't the best, it was still sex, and Dante prided himself on being able to turn any situation into a good situation.

Except for the one time a girl had puked on his dick; that had been fucking awful – because of the puke, the passing out - but also because he had a policy. He didn't bang girls who were so drunk that they could barely see, let alone consent to a proper pussy renovation. He hadn't even noticed she was well on her way to alcohol-poisoning. She'd been fine and then, with a shocking abruptness, become violently and horribly not-fine. After she'd painted him green, he'd had to spend the rest of his money sending her home in a cab. The whole thing made him feel filthy, like he'd narrowly missed being a date rapist or choking someone to death with his dick, neither of which were amazing outcomes. Now that would have been a great one to explain at the hospital.

Anyway, unpleasant memories aside. . .

This girl's name. Right. Dante ransacked the little black book in his mind and came up empty. The most memorable thing about the blonde bombshell currently hanging off him was how he'd had to spend half an hour searching for a missing stiletto heel the one time he'd brought her home. He could not recall her name for the life of him, but he did remember she wore size 36. And she had unusually large nipples. Or at least, he thought that was her - sometimes boobs just blurred together and mixed up in his memory. . .

"Uhhhh, hi there," Nero said with a perky little wave. Dante stifled a chuckle at how the cheerful gesture contrasted with the sad puppy expression on his face. It was stupidly adorable. "I'm Nero. Whassyour name? You're really pretty, you know that?"

Yep, Nero was a charmer all right.

She straightened, and gave the kid a once-over. "Oh, my."

Dante's brow shot up. That voice meant things were definitely looking better for the kid.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart," she purred. She extended her hand to Nero as though she was expecting a kiss. "I'm Fiona."

"Hiii there, Fiona," Nero replied with wide eyes. He seemed livelier than he had all evening, and was pretty much glowing from the compliment. He wasn't even furrowing his eyebrows anymore. Dante was glad to see that he was looking a little happier. Maybe he really had made the right call bringing him here. Could be good for the kid's ego to get a bit of attention.

Nero lifted his right hand and lightly grasped her fingers with his devil bringer. "It'sh nice to meet you."

Dante had been so relieved that the kid's introduction had tipped him off on her name that he hadn't really paid attention to what was happening. However, it hit him like a truck as soon as he saw the girl flinch at the sight and touch of Nero's hand.

It was only a momentary startle, but Nero dropped her fingers like he'd been burned and moved his hand back under the table, where it trembled slightly. Dante was reaching to put his hand on the kid's shoulder, but Nero shrugged away from the comforting gesture. He was trying to pull off looking angry at Dante, but the older man found it easy to see past that to the damage that had been done.

Nero stared down at the tabletop. He seemed to sober up in a hurry - maybe because he was biting his lip hard enough to break skin. "Sorry. Uh. I'll be right back." He walked off in the direction of the bathrooms with quick strides, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets.

Dante rubbed his hand over his face. "Damn," he groaned under his breath. So much for things looking up.

Fiona was quick to take the vacant seat, not seeming to register her part in causing Nero's sudden departure. "Uh, wow. He's a little shy, but I think I could have a lot of fun with that one." She stared in the direction Nero had gone with a look of carnal curiosity that had Dante narrowing his eyes at her. Then, she licked her lips and turned back to the table, leaning closer to talk to him over the sound of the music.

Her perfume. Dante remembered that perfume. He'd thought it was okay before, but suddenly he couldn't fucking stand it.

"That's some hand he has there," she breathed. So, is it. . . just the arm?" Her turned her gaze behind her in the direction Nero had disappeared to. "It's hot. And the fact that he has such a handsome face and acts so sweet makes it even sexier. " She tapped her lower lip with her index finger. "It would be so. . . kinky, doing a guy with monster parts."

A flare of rage rose up in Dante's chest.

Fiona continued, a conspiratorial look crossing her face. "You two seem like good friends. Be a dear and help me out, will you? It looks like he might scare off easily."

Dante could not believe that he'd wasted a night of his life on this bitch. He was offended on Nero's behalf – the kid did not need random skanks perving on his devil bringer like he was some kind of show-pony! He had enough issues about it without fetishists in the mix.

Dante didn't like being cold to women. It went against his grain and he liked to think his stellar interpersonal skills made it unnecessary to be an asshole; he tended to get away with things without needing to go to those lengths. However, this wench was crossing so many lines that he was barely keeping a lid on it.

He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair, projecting as much friendliness as he could muster – which was to say, not much. "Let me break this down for you, doll-face. Nero is off limits. I'm not letting you use him for whatever fetish you've got going there. He's a person, and he doesn't need you trying to worm your way into his pants looking for monster-dick. Back off, because Nero's way out of your league. Got it?"

Fiona just looked at Dante in shock. Then, she got to her feet with a huff. "Wow, I had no idea you could be such a bastard, papa bear." Her voice was sickly sweet. "Jealous much?"

Fuck. The reason he liked Love Planet was because the dancers were so chill. They were good looking, sure. More importantly, when they came around, it was for fun only. When the ladies of Love Planet looked to date, they wanted guys who could be relied on for emotional support. They wanted guys with the means to get them out of a life of shaking their tits for cash. Everyone in the place knew that Dante was neither of those things, so things stayed simple. When it came to him, it was universally understood that all he was good for was a big cock, notable stamina, the ability to hold his breath for five minutes, and some good-humoured flirting. No expectations. No weirdness or hurt feelings.

But now, this woman was slinging weirdness around like it was going out of style. Jealousy? Clearly, she was high. And here he'd thought the manager ran a clean shop. It was a good thing Dante always wrapped it before he packed it.

"Look sweetheart, I like to maintain a friendly relationship with people I've hooked up with, but you're starting to push it. I don't think it's your style to get ideas after one night, and it's definitely not mine, so I don't know what you're talking about," Dante retorted.

She covered her mouth with her hand and then then let out a quiet, mean-sounding laugh that made Dante suspect that he'd somehow said something truly stupid. "I didn't say that. Oh my god. Big, bad, ladies' man Dante. Goes to show that cool guy front is just that – a front. What would the girls say if they knew?"

"I'm wondering what the hell this girl is saying, that's for sure," Dante practically growled. "You're not making any goddamned sense. If you've got a point, you should probably make it sometime."

The woman lifted a shoulder dismissively. "Fine, play dumb. I'm out of here. Say goodbye to Nero for me. I hope he drops by again when you're not hanging around him like a gigantic chastity belt," she replied, before making her way to the dressing room area.

Dante tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Fuck," he muttered. "This really was a bad idea." He took his time finishing his beer. He figured that was enough time to leave the kid alone, and headed towards the corridor in the back of the club where the washrooms were.

The hallway had spare chairs stacked in it, and Nero was perched on a pile in the corner, motionless. He was doing a good job of blending into the shadows and dingy wallpaper – or he would have been, if it weren't for the flickering glow he threw off. He looked up when he heard Dante walking towards him, and raked his devil bringer through his hair.

"Uh, hey Dante. I think I'm gonna head back now. I guess I shouldn't have fuckin' come here after all. Sorry for making things weird. With your friend, I mean. "

Dante leaned against the wall across from Nero. "Not a problem, you didn't do anything wrong. And she isn't my friend."

Nero snickered and then rubbed the side of his nose, looking off to the side. "Fine, whatever she is, I'm sorry for grossing her out."

The older man started laughing.

"What?" Nero asked, affronted.

Dante pushed off from the wall, and started rumpling Nero's hair up even more than he himself had already. "It's nothing. She was not put off by it, believe me. So, are we heading home?"

Nero turned back to him, surprised. "Huh? I figured you came here to get your dick wet. You should stay. I know the way back and I'll hang out with my headphones on." He looked at the floor again. "Sorry I'm a buzz-kill."

"Getting my dick wet? Oh man, when did my little Nero get such a dirty mouth?" Dante laughed. "Let's go, I'm totally done with this place tonight. If it gets any more tragic in here, guys with masks on will have to come up behind us and recite Latin shit. Let's blow this popsicle stand." He clapped a hand on Nero's back. "When we get back you're gonna have to tell me all about why you're so down, though."

Nero's lips tightened.

"C'mon. It will make you feel better, I promise."

Nero scoffed, his eyes getting that faraway, wounded look again. "I dunno about that."

Dante brightened. This was an occasion for the one-armed hug he was growing so fond of.

"Ungh!" The timbre of Nero's low, hoarse cry made Dante's entire body freeze up for a millisecond while the kid grabbed at his restraining arm. "Goddamn it, Dante, why are you always trying to jam my head in your armpit? Get off me!"

He ignored the protests and just grabbed him tighter. "Oh come on, you know I'm daisy-fresh. No need to get all worked up to hide your smooshy inner heart. Just let your feelings flow free, Nero - it'll be cool."

Dante could hear the faint sound of Nero cursing like a sailor against his chest. From the sounds of it, it seemed like with Nero, he should just skip all the pussyfooting around trying to cheer him up, and go straight to the manhandling. The kid was so stubborn about affection, like a stray used to being harassed by mean kids, and his hissy-fits were fucking hilarious.

"Confide all your woes in your good friend Dante. Look – just look at these amazing pipes! That's right, these mind-blowingly sexy arms are totally ready to comfort you. And these manly shoulders! They're just waiting to absorb the rainfall of your tears," he announced with a great amount of enthusiasm.

When Nero managed to break free, Dante reflected that he couldn't recall ever having had a stack of chairs thrown at him before - the way they came unstacked in mid-air made them pretty challenging to dodge.

Having the kid around was great - Dante was always getting to try new things.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

* * *

**A.N.** - Well, here we are. I hope we had fun. Even if not, please just take my number anyway and pretend you're gonna call; I'm fragile right now. My big triumph - finally tricking this site into letting me have white-space. God, it's like fighting the shittiest boss ever!

Shorter or longer chapters? I tend to start with a goal/idea, and when I get it done, I stop. This leads to huge variation. I hope this isn't an issue for people.

If you spot errors, let me know via pm or review (helps if it's something I can ctrl+f). I will fix them and appreciate you so hard, all night long. Thanks for reading, and thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter. I'm trying to be good and respond to all you kind folks if you leave a signed one.

I've been writing like a fiend lately for some reason, so I'm thinking the next chapter will be a go within a week or so. It's eating into my HD collection time though, so I hope you feel special. I could have been the one filling that dark game with FIIIIIIIIGGGGHHHHT. *echo echo echo*

-Volpa


	3. Everybody But Me

**Disclaimer**: I have nothing to do with Devil May Cry in any official capacity, and am writing this for fun. To prove it, I will make very few spelling errors in the following chapter. (This message not brought to you by '_Capcpom_,' makers of Resident Evil '_Revelaitons_')

**Rating**: Eventual M

**Pairing**: Dante x Nero

**Genre**: Romance/Humour

**Warnings**: Yaoi. Language, eventual sexytimes, possible OOC

**Summary**: Dante seems determined to keep flying around in stupid circles, and Lady's about ready to blast his ass out of the sky. Poor Nero gets to watch while it all crashes and burns. Dante x Nero.

* * *

**Holding Pattern**  
by Write-Error

.

**Chapter 2:  
Everybody But Me**

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

Though my jeans are too tight, I don't feel like dancing  
And all this light is too bright, I don't feel like shining  
Though this room is too small, I'd rather stand against the wall  
And hope that no one sees me

- _Lykke Li_

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

By the time they reached the doors of the shop, Nero appeared to have returned to sobriety. The few blocks between Love Planet and home had gone by pretty quickly. Nero inhaled the cold night air in deep breaths, and Dante could have sworn that he could hear gears turning inside his skull. Nero's face looked drawn in the flickering red light off the sign.

Dante unlocked the door. It seemed like the younger man had taken his agreement to talk seriously. Maybe he was taking it a bit too seriously. Dante hadn't intended for the kid to go breaking his brain over it. He'd just thought it might help to blast it all out, reload with a fresh clip and hope the bullets flew true afterwards.

It occurred to Dante that he didn't really have any male friends and had pretty much no experience with how to deal with someone when they were upset like this. He could shoot the shit with the best of them. He could get along with anyone if he put his mind to it - well, mostly. There were tons of people who he called on and who called on him for favours.

For the most part, though, Dante liked to keep things on a need-to-know basis. Friendly, but he had a way of smoothly evading imposition without anyone even noticing. He seemed just flaky enough that people didn't feel they could count on him. Just sarcastic enough that people rarely knew when to take him seriously. Exceptions to that comfortable distance - the people who could barge into his day for no real reason - were few. Nero was one-third of that meager number now, and the one Dante was around the most.

He did care about the girls - they were his partners in crime - but he and Lady'd always had petty conflicts, and Trish was pretty cryptic in general and liked to take off for months at a time. The both of them had had their defenses built up long before they ever met Dante. The three of them were built out of similar enough stuff that they got each other. It was a connection that was both prickly and comfortable.

Nero though - he hadn't hardened against the world yet. He was still brave enough to keep that heart of his pinned on his sleeve for all to see. Dante wasn't sure he'd ever truly develop that bitter, protective shell.

He wasn't used to being in a position to look after someone, and it was a total shock to realize he actually wanted to do it - even though the kid would probably try to kick his ass if he knew it.

Anyway, since the girls were the closest Dante could draw from, he wracked his brain. What cheered them up, besides shopping on his dime? Lady and Trish were kind of bad pair to use as a reference, he was now realizing. He imagined that Lady's best day ever would involve heavy ordnance, incendiary devices, and massive demon casualties. She was in a great mood when she was blowing shit up and getting richly compensated for it. Trish was a bit subtler, but she also truly enjoyed violence. Well, that, and driving hot vehicles at roughly twice the speed limit recommended by the Capulet metro area bylaws.

Dante furrowed his brow. Maybe he did actually have guy friends. . .

As for him, he liked to bury whatever problem he had, and distract himself with something cheap and cheerful. That hadn't worked for Nero. Loose women? Inconclusive, but that particular attempt had been a failure - the one they'd run into was off her rocker and was now pissed at him. Booze? It only made Nero sadder, and he started talking like James Joyce narrating a teen drama. Pizza? Candy? Ice cream? Nah. Nero was weird in that he actually had cravings for healthy food like other people had for the crappy stuff.

Dante had learned about that little detail in the most graphic way possible. He'd still been half-asleep, walking into the kitchen in the middle of the morning. It had taken him a few moments to realize he was awake and that the scene before him was actually happening. He'd thought it might be a late-night pizza dream because it was so absurd.

Nero had been standing there, frozen in place, in his boxers and bed-head. He'd had the funniest 'oh shit' expression on his face, clearly knowing how bizarre he looked holding a ridiculously large head of raw broccoli in his devil bringer like an outsized chicken drumstick. It was obvious he'd been ripping into it like some kind of vegetable-eating barbarian. All that had been missing was a large tankard of seaweed juice or whatever, and he would have looked like a pacifist viking who only ate organic produce. Apparently living on pizza made Nero snap violently back in the other direction.

Well, shopping for veggies at one in the morning was just not going to happen. Going looking for a fight would probably not work out well, given that the kid might still be a bit wasted. It looked like the talking plan was all that was left in the barrel Dante'd been scraping. He himself wasn't much of a talker, but he had no problems being the kid's sounding board if that was what it took to get him flying right again. He was, after all, really curious at this point.

The doors of Dante's fine establishment swung inwards with a slight creak. "Home sweet home," he sighed, stomping dust off his boots. Nero followed, letting out a huge yawn. Dante threw his keys at the light-switch on the wall, clicking them on before they fell with a jangle into the dish below.

Dante tossed his coat over the banister before heading to the desk and sitting on it, shoving his sleeves up and watching the kid. Nero had just stopped after closing the doors behind them, staring vacantly at the wall. He looked like an automaton that had run out of juice before reaching his destination.

"Hey. Nero. C'mon, just sit your ass down, and tell me what's going on with you. Then you can go to sleep and be back to giving me personality again. It's just ripping a band-aid off. Let's do this shit, okay?"

Nero straightened up and exhaled. He trudged over to the couch and flopped down on it, leaning his head back and stretching his arms out over the back, legs splayed straight out in front of him. "Yeahhh. . ."

The silence stretched on, with the kid just squinting at the ceiling like it held the mysteries of the universe. Dante drummed his fingers against the wooden desktop.

Finally, Nero sighed, still staring at the ceiling. "So. Fortuna. Man, why the fuck did I even go back there?"

"That's the question of the century," Dante observed. "Why would anyone ever go near that place, unless it was blowing up with demons?"

Nero raised his head to look at Dante and cracked a little smile. Well, that was progress at least.

"Damn right! That Savior bullshit was actually the most excitement that I ever had in all the time I lived there." He raked one hand through his hair. "Ugh, my head's all mixed up. But yeah, that's probably a good place to start."

Dante settled into his chair. "As usual, the party only gets good once I show up."

Nero rolled his eyes. "You just keep thinking that. Anyway, while all that was going down, I was really fuckin' stressed. The Order was going haywire, all these gates were spewing baddies. Kyrie got nabbed, Credo was in way over his head, all that jacked-up science shit - it just went on and on. On top of all that, this totally unkillable guy came out of fuckin' nowhere and shot Sanctus in the face." He smiled. "Though knowing what I do now I'm kind of glad you popped in right then; that old fuck was _such _a slow talker."

"Yeah, that's me," Dante interjected, jerking a thumb towards his chest with a big cheesy grin. "Always around to help you out. I bet you're glad this unstoppable pile of awesome was helping you out in the end."

Nero snorted, still wearing that little smile. "That's for sure. I was thinking, 'What can I do about this dude? I'm used to being top dog, and scruffy over here is slappin' me around. He's playing with me and I probably can't take him if he gets serious. We're fucked.'" Nero laughed. "Anyway, it was all going to hell and I was sitting in this hand-basket thinking 'ohhh shit' the entire ride.

"But you know what, Dante? Aside from the personal crisis stuff, and yeah that was pretty bad - I was having the time of my fuckin' life! I never had to push myself like that before. I never got to kick so much ass without someone trying to make me toe whatever line they decided to draw that day. I finally got to do things my way without being set up to fail, or being told that I did it wrong, just 'cause I was born wrong in a town full of people who loved being right.

"I'd been buying all the bullshit, you know? Living in these miserable barracks surrounded by these. . . it was sick, you know. Boss-man - Credo - well, he had a working brain, maybe not fully after how things turned out. But so many of the Order dudes couldn't come up with a thought unless ten people agreed with them. Not much individual thinking going on." Nero met Dante's eyes. "I know you like to shit on Fortuna, and I got defensive 'cause it's my hometown. But you're not wrong about it. Sometimes I just wanted to stand on a hill, play a fiddle, and watch it burn."

Dante laughed. "Cute, Nero. So you went back to torch it? Why not ask me to come? I'm pretty sure I got marshmallows somewhere."

"You would, fatty." Nero smirked.

"Heyyyy!" Dante protested. "All of this is muscle!"

"Sure, but you have the biggest sweet-tooth I've ever seen, man. It's insane." Nero shook his head.

"That ain't the biggest thing I got, baby," Dante wiggled his eyebrows, laughing as Nero's entire face puckered in disgust.

"Yeah, I got a view of that, up-close and personal. Thanks. Really life-changing." the kid deadpanned.

Dante held a hand to his heart in mock-hurt. "Okay, okay, fine. Go back to talking about your crappy town instead of how amazing I am already."

Nero exhaled through his nose, brow furrowing. He leaned forward then, closing his eyes and looking more tired than Dante had ever seen him. "Oh shit, I knew it. This is gonna be hard."

Dante, sitting in his desk-chair, steepled his fingers with a serious expression on his face.

Nero narrowed his eyes at the pose, and then looked down at where he was sitting on the retro-looking leather couch. Looking back at Dante, he made a fist with his devil bringer and socked it into his other palm. "Dante, if you start asking how I feel about my mother while recording me or takin' notes, just know I'm going to punch you real hard."

"You could try," the older man grinned, kicking back into his usual posture. "But yeah. That girl of yours, this has to do with her, right? What, did you guys break up or something?"

The younger man remained still, only tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling like it could provide him some kind of answer. "Ha. Not even. Shit - how do I tell you about this without sounding like a loser? I don't even know if it's possible because this whole thing is pretty much about me being pathetic." Their eyes met. "Dante," he sighed, "if you make fun of me with anything I'm about to tell you, I swear to god. . ."

A little sting of hurt twinged in Dante's chest. "What? Kid, you know I wouldn't do that! Man, you really think I'd-?"

Nero looked alarmed. "No. No, I really fuckin' don't, but - I'm sorry, I've been extremely wrong before. A lot, and I'm kinda. . . not trusting myself right now." His anxious blue eyes met Dante's. "I didn't mean to, I dunno - insult you or anything. You. . . you gave me something that was important to you, and even when you're being an ass you always seem to have my back. You've got to know you treat me better than anyone else I've ever met, right? 'Cause you do."

Dante frowned. "You know, I'm not getting the impression that's a real high bar right now," he replied.

Nero snorted in response. "Probably not. I'm sorry for implying you're gonna dick me over, I just never talked about this shit to anyone, ever. I'm kinda paranoid, okay?"

"Yeah, I'm seein' that. Fuck kid, I just want to help."

Dante was unprepared for the look he got back. Nero looked really vulnerable at that moment - injured, about to expose his soft underbelly so someone could help him get a thorn out, desperately hoping he wouldn't be eviscerated for making the wrong call.

God. He just wanted to grab him up in his arms and tell him everything was going to be okay, but that probably wouldn't be well-received.

"Kyrie and me - well, I'm kinda unsure as to whether we were actually together." His shoulders lifted in a listless shrug. "There wasn't much of anything to break in the first place, I guess."

Nero looked really frustrated, a bitter smile twisting his lips as he got tangled up in his own thoughts. It was strange how it was affecting Dante, too.

Now that he'd gotten him talking, the older man didn't want him to stop until everything was better again. He had an infected wound and it was going to be cleaned out, right fucking now - no matter how messy it got. "Hey, you don't need to get worked up. I've got nothing but time right now. You don't even need to make sense - just go for it."

Nero looked at Dante and sighed. "Okay, remember a while back? You were talking about how people just get on this course, and that course can be hard to change, right?"

"Yeah," Dante encouraged. "Routines happen."

The kid nodded. "Yeah. It's not just how you act, it's how you think, too. You see things the way you've gotten used to seeing them."

Nero looked over at Dante with a pensive frown on his face. "Guess if I've gotta talk about going back, I should talk about leaving. I didn't tell you before, but when I first left Fortuna, and before I showed up here - I had no plan. I basically got Queenie, Blue Rose, whatever I could carry - and I just flat-out ran. If the ferry hadn't been there to take me I probably would've found a way to swim the crossing. It was pure luck that I had a bit of money on me that day to get me from point A to point B.

"I wandered around for a couple of weeks before I arrived here, you know. Town to town, taking bounties for cash, no real goal. Crashing wherever I could. That's what I was doing the past few days too. Just. . . trying to figure out my shit, killing demons 'cause moving my body helps clear my fucking head out.

"Anyway, yeah. I'd left Fortuna. I'd been on the road for a while. Just going from place to place and taking it in - typical guy from the sticks, overwhelmed by the world. And then, when I arrived at Capulet city limits, I could just tell you were here. So I somehow managed to track you down. You weren't horrified to see me - even said I could stay and help out - and it just. . . clicked.

"Like I said, the whole Savior incident unlocked something inside me. You and Trish. You two showed up, doing things on your own terms. Not really human - I could smell it on you. I guess I recognized that we were alike, right off the bat. But the more I ran into you, the more I realized me and you, we weren't anything alike. You had your own goals, your own reasons for doing shit. You ran your own life.

"This is gonna sound so stupid, but I'd never thought I would have control over my life. I was used to getting into shit with the Order for not following their rules. I was always bucking the reins. But, even though I was gonna struggle all the way down, I was also resigned that - well, that was gonna be my life. That was just the way the world worked in my head. Orphans raised up in Fortuna - we owe service to the town once we're grown. I was sent to be the Order's ward and eventually join up with them specifically. 'Cause I was the white haired devil-kid, the freak, and I guess I was gonna need to be kept in line, you know?"

Yeah, Dante knew all about that.

"Anyway, it's like some loose form of - what's it called - indentured servitude? No, that's too harsh. Maybe it's a leftover from the feudal way of doing things. After everything they gave you, you've gotta give back. It can really suck depending on where you end up, but most people wouldn't have the balls to say 'fuck this' and leave - even if no one would really stop them. Fortuna, it's. . . the people there don't even try to make it outside, 'cause the outside world is so evil and bad, the way they tell it. I don't remember hearing of anyone in my situation ever leaving.

"So, all my life, I'd had this road in front of me. I had nothing else, I knew nothing else, so it was probably gonna happen no matter how I kicked and screamed. Maybe I'd settle down if I could find a girl who could stand me. Maybe I wouldn't be too miserable if I played my cards right and worked like a fuckin' dog. But those were just details - I'd boarded that train and wasn't one I even thought I could get off of."

Nero looked up at Dante, fingers curling and uncurling against the upholstery out of nervousness.

"Then - it's like in stories. A stranger comes to town and everything changes - you know the drill. You came to town. It shook me up - but something weird happened. I. . . changed. I became the stranger, after you guys left. I didn't know which way was up anymore. Everything in me was telling me something was wrong about being there, and it got louder and louder."

Nero squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face. "I was waking up every night, it felt like something was crushing me down. I couldn't breathe there. I felt like I was gonna die. My leaving wasn't even a decision, it's like - you know, when you accidentally grab something that's hot enough to burn you. Your body says, 'I'm letting go of that thing right fucking now, no negotiations.' The pain hits your nerves, your reptile brain immediately knows you're in contact with something that's messing you up, and it grabs the wheel. Your muscles move. You do it.

"Once I realized I'd taken off in the night like a lunatic, I thought about making contact with someone and giving some bullshit excuse - keeping that door open - but I just froze. For one thing, I didn't want to go back. Just the thought of it made me lock up. And for another, who the fuck would I call? The Order was in a shambles, I had no one to report to, it was like a bunch of headless chickens up in there. Plus, since it turned out they'd been manufacturing and summoning demons to keep themselves in business, I figured it would be the same old fuckin' story." Nero laughed, a little bitter. "The one factory in town shuts down? Well you can sit there pining for the plant's glory days and talking about the fine time you had back when there was food to eat. Or you can fucking move on, right?

"There was one person I could've called, but I didn't. I didn't call her. When I think of it now, I think I might have been trying to test her. It's not like she doesn't have my number - she's actually the only person in the entire world who has my fucking number, now that boss-man's gone. I hadn't thought I'd break her heart, but I thought she'd at least try to find out what happened to me." Nero paused, like he was trying to search for words.

"Have you ever needed someone so bad, but you just weren't good enough? Not like you have to meet some kind of standard. I mean, feeling that you're, what's that word. . . that you're innately dirty and beneath them, and there's not a hope in hell that that will ever change? I always felt like that, as long as I could remember. That was my normal."

Dante had been trying to keep a lid on it, but he couldn't contain his wince. "Kid. . . Nero, you know you're not-"

"This is not my favorite conversation ever, so please don't stop me, Dante. I just-" Nero pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to relax. He shook his head as though to clear it, and seemed to steel himself before continuing.

"Yeah. Anyway, you know I tend to talk like I'm hot shit. I got used to doing that 'cause people thought they could just grind me down if I gave them anything to work with - but I do know I've got problems. I'm rude for no reason. Quick-tempered. I get too emotional. I don't think things through. I have issues with authority and I'm a bit of a shit-magnet. I got smacked down right away for anything I did wrong in the Order, so it's not like I don't know I did a _lot _wrong, all the time. But the feeling of being the crap someone scraped off their shoe, that I'd never be good enough for anyone - that was all because of my arm. I got good at hiding the number it did on me, but it wasn't gonna go away.

"So, Kyrie, ever since I met her - well, I needed to try really hard all the fucking time. Not because she ever asked for it, but because I needed to make it up to her. Buying her things when I could afford it, doing stuff she wanted to do, going to the shit she wanted me to be at even if it bored me to death - it just seemed natural she'd be ashamed of me. That she wouldn't be able to hold her head up. I needed to make it worth her while.

"Anyway, after my freak-out escape plan, after getting some space, I figured I should go back and see her. Being here and workin' with you - I think and see differently. Sometimes I feel like I've been wearing a blindfold all my life. I needed to take a good look at what I left there, and confirm what I'd been thinking about lately about Kyrie and about that place. So I went back, and as it turns out, it sucks being right.

"It makes me sick that I bought into all that crap! I'm angry at myself. I wasted so much effort, tried so hard, felt like shit for no good reason except that they told me to. It's sad that I would have just swallowed it, you know? That feeling of being filth and somehow soiling Kyrie by loving her when I wasn't at her level - I would have sucked it up and lived with it all my fucking life if it had only been in my head. But what I saw when I went back was that Kyrie bought it too, all that time. It wasn't a conscious thing, but it's there. She probably couldn't help it, so I can't even be mad. It's not like we ever hashed anything out, but I spent a lot of time with her when I was on Credo's leash. I had hopes.

"Since I met her, I figured she was the only person I could be with. When I say that, it sounds all big and romantic, like soul-mates and shit. In reality though, it's depressing because I do mean it literally. She was the only one in that entire town who even tried to talk to me like I was a person. If it wasn't gonna be her, it wasn't going to be anyone, you know? I guess I latched onto that. I couldn't handle the idea that I might always be alone. I'm not strong enough to take all the shit without having one person who could make me feel like it was worthwhile. But, to her, I was this guy her brother had a use for and I was obviously not well-liked. She'd be a good person and be different and spend time with me. That really fucking stings my pride. Pinning all my hopes on someone who thought of me like that.

"I saw it, this time around. She looks at me like. . . like some stray dog she'd been looking after. I stopped showing up, she thought maybe I'd found a better deal and was glad for me. Then I was back and she was petting me again. Guess the Savior thing shocked her - her doggy had really been a wolf all that time and she finally figured out why everyone hated it, but when it turned out that it came through for her anyway, it was back to the same. The way she feels, it could be anyone. I might as well not even have been there, you know? She had this role in mind and I could fill it. Any sweetness she gave me was because. . . she is the sort of person who was big enough to be kind to some asshole no one else cared for. And as for me, wasn't I the same? Latching onto the one girl who could stand me, putting her in that role just 'cause the illusion kept me going. And it was all in my head.

"Anyway, that's what I figured out. She acted exactly the same. I was the different one. I finally got that just 'cause she was nice to me didn't mean she wanted me. Got my eyelids ripped off and it hurt like a bitch. When everyone looks at you like you're inferior, you stop seein' it, but I'm not used to it anymore. If I stayed there, that's all I'd ever have seen.

"The funny thing is that all the shit I had to put up with was because of this guy right here." Nero flexed the fingers of his devil bringer. "And why exactly? It's some evil deformity? Like it's the mark of some sin I committed? It's all bad and wrong, being all hand-shaped all the time?" Nero scowled. "You know what, I'm tired of caring about that shit. I'm getting to like this thing."

Dante smiled when the dim glow from Nero's hand flared a little brighter as he said those words, like it was saying 'hi.'

"If those dickbags weren't making me feel so shitty about it all the time, I would have been a lot more useful. How the hell does someone feel superior to a dude who can hand them their ass with one arm all bound up and the other givin' them the finger? I smacked motherfuckers around way better than they ever could. People see this baby and think I'm fuckin' defective or something. . ."

Nero and leaned forward, elbows propped up on his knees, mouth pursed like he was looking for the words. "I'm not saying I'm going to be showin' it off to every idiot I meet, but I'm trying not to feel like I need to hide it. I don't wanna feel like it's my problem if people gawk at it. I mean obviously, it's different. People are gonna look cause it's flashing and whatever. It ain't personal. I'm hoping someday, there's someone who can learn to deal with it and want me anyway." His jaw set in a firm line. "I'm done with the self-flagellating bullshit, man. Fuck it, seriously - and fuck that whole goddamned town."

With that, Nero relaxed, sort of melting back against the backrest of the couch, arms slack at his sides. He heaved a gigantic sigh. "Man. I can't believe I bitched for so long." He rubbed his temple and got to his feet, shifting his weight awkwardly, reddening slightly in the dim room. "Fuckin' embarrassing. Anyway, that's it. I hope it's enough, Dante, because I'm done for and I think I'm already hung over." He bit his lip and then looked over at Dante, rubbing his nose. "And, uh, thanks for pushin' at me and listening to me whine. I do feel better now after all."

Shit. The relief Dante felt, seeing that Nero was going to be okay, was amazing. He stood and approached where the younger man stood. "I'm glad you made it out of that place. You know you're welcome here for as long as you want to stay, right? I got you, kid. Don't worry about anything."

Before Dante could get in close enough to pull his new favourite move, Nero got him with a fist in the ribs. He looked at Dante, exasperation all over his face. "Dude, that is not gonna work on me anymore. How many times do I have to tell you? Even if you don't smell, having my face in your pit is not as amazing as you seem to think."

And then, Dante's eyes widened in surprise. Nero was. . . actually giving him a hug. An honest to goodness hug, even if it was quick. In fact, the whole thing was over and Nero was back where he'd been before Dante could react to it at all.

Dante's brain was scrambling to catch hold of vague sensory impressions after the fact. The rough edges of Nero's bringer catching at the back of his shirt and pulling it taut. A solid press of warmth holding him. The light brush of hair against his cheek, warm breath across his earlobe and neck.

The faint smell of beer, and Nero.

Goddamn it, Dante's heart hurt.

"Thanks, Dante. It means a lot." The kid was smiling - a rare shy smile - as he rubbed at his nose again. "But I guess you know that now."

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

"'Dongface attacks!'" Dante laughed, jostling Nero. "Somehow, reading that just never gets old."

Nero smirked, buttons clicking under the thumb of his bringer. "Yeah, this game ain't that amazing. The name you gave our guy is a huge improvement. It just adds a little extra something."

Dante replied modestly. "I'd love to take the credit, but with a nose like that, the poor bastard basically named himself." Nero was lying across the couch, one foot propped up on the end armrest, the other resting on the floor, and the kid was using his thigh as a pillow. They had just kind of ended up that way after Dante had kept insisting he couldn't see what was going on on the portable game console screen.

"Oh, hey," Dante observed with mild interest. "Check that out. There's a cave. Go in, go in!"

Nero frowned. Dongface, their fearsome warrior, paused on the screen. "I dunno. That farm guy said we needed something before going there. You've gotta remember that the Dante in this game isn't you. It's this little healing girl who carries a stick. She's lame, man. Goes down in one hit."

Real Dante felt strangely offended. "Yeah, and about that, punk - I still don't get why I'm not the archer guy."

"Oh, you mean Nero, who is totally awesome? Why wouldn't you be him? Oh right, that's 'cause while I'm driving, I call the shots!" He started chuckling to himself, obviously getting way too high on power.

Dongface had gotten into another fight. The shift of Nero's arms as he played had caused the hood of his thin dark grey knit sweater to slip down, and the collar gaped slightly. Dante caught himself looking at the little hollow of Nero's collarbone and shoulder – cream-pale, glowing like a secret in the shelter of the fabric.

Nero's thumbs clicked away furiously, distracting Dante from his contemplation as their turn came to attack. The older man watched as the white mage contributed jack shit to the war effort.

Damn. Seriously?

The last blob disappeared, and the little archer twirled in a victory dance.

"I wanna be that guy," Dante repeated.

"Okay then. Here you go." Nero reached up, holding the console in front of Dante's face.

The older man batted it back, irritated. All those stupid freaking buttons - he didn't have time to learn that shit. "No Nero, you keep doing the drone-labour. I'm the executive decision-guy here."

"Sure thing, boss-man," Nero grinned.

"Then check out that cave," Dante persisted. He needed to get something out of this. "I bet there's some good gear in there - maybe even a gun!"

The younger man's nose wrinkled as he tilted his head back and looked up at Dante, upside down. "Riiight. I doubt that, but fine." Dongface and company disappeared into the darkness.

"I thought it would be cooler," Dante grumbled, taking in the unimpressive new environs. "It's just brown with some rocks."

"Yeah. I hate this maze crap. Looks exactly like that stupid mine." Nero moved Dongface around aimlessly. "Oh hey! A chest."

The older man brightened, fingers curling into Nero's hair as he leaned in, trying to see better. "Please, please be a gun for Dante. . ."

As Dongface moved towards the treasure, the screen started to morph. Another fight. Nero froze. "Wait. Look at this!"

Dante peered at the screen. "This chicken thing is Level 20! Are we fucked?"

"Yeah, you could say that. Dongface is level 9. . ." Nero moved through the action menus quickly. "Escape, escape. . ." he muttered.

The little white blob that was Dante's alter ego collapsed to the ground.

"Shit!" Nero yelped.

"There's no way I'm fuckin' dead - did anything even touch me, or did I just go down from being breathed on?" Dante was pissed. "This shit's so unrealistic. I could totally take that huge cave-chicken. Two ticks and it would be on the goddamn rotisserie."

"Shit, we can't escape," Nero gritted his teeth. "It's our last stand!" he announced with determination.

"The only items we have are. . . leaves? Do those even do anything?" Dante watched the pixelated carnage unfold, somehow invested even though this game so far had been pretty fucking boring. "Dongface is down." He tugged on the kid's hair a little. "Nero, you're all we have left! Use the leaves - marinate and skewer that piece of shit for killing me. Vengeance!"

"Fuck fuck fuck," Archer Nero bit the dust. "Fuck." The younger man froze suddenly. "Aw, crap. Dante. When did we last save?"

The older man heard the door open and didn't bother looking up. Lady had been over all the time, getting Nero to help her out over the past week. She'd probably come by to snatch the kid away again. He tilted his head, trying to recall. "I think it was after that fight with the worm. Or maybe right before it."

Nero muttered a bunch of curses and then put the console down with a sneer. "Well, fuck this! Even Dongface couldn't save this game - no way we're doing all of that again."

"Fuckin' A," Dante agreed, smoothing his fingers through Nero's hair solemnly. "Farewell Dongface. We hardly knew ya, but your nose looked like a dong. And thus, we dubbed you. . . Dongface."

Lady came to a stop in front of them, removing her shades and looking at them askance. "Do I even want to know what you two are talking about?" She took in their positions, one hand settling on her hip. "Or what you're doing?"

Nero held the console up to show her the big GAME OVER. A disgusted-sounding, "Ugh, piece of shit chicken asshole," was all he offered in explanation.

She shrugged. "Right, nevermind. So, ready to go, Nero? Today's mark is on the move. The quicker we get to the last known location, the less time we'll need to search."

"Sure, Lady. I'll be ready in a sec." Nero sat up and swung his legs down, before jumping to his feet and stretching. Dante frowned. "I've just gotta go get my coat and Queenie."

Lady placed a sheet of paper on the desk. "Here's a job for you if you want to take it, Dante."

He just shrugged, slouching further into the couch as he shot a considering look at the abandoned console. Dongface still had so many crappy, monotonous adventures to go on. Somehow that game seemed a lot more fun when productive activities were available for comparison.

"Come on, it actually looks like a good one this time around. You'll be flat broke if you don't," Lady continued pointedly.

"Well," Dante rejoined, "That might not be so much of a problem if you weren't here every other damned day putting the screws to me, would it?"

"Dante," she said irritably, "at least take a look at it."

He leaned his head back in resignation before getting to his feet and heading for the desk to check out the details she'd left. He guessed he didn't really have anything better to do anyway, what with Nero out on a job, too.

"Hey, Dante," Nero called as he stomped back downstairs with Red Queen on his back. "What kinda job you got?"

"Clearing out some abandoned house 'cause the demons are wrecking the neighborhood," he said. "Should be a couple of hours, maybe more if it's far."

"Right, so around dinner time," Nero replied, flipping Blue Rose's chamber open to check she was fully loaded, and shoving some ammo into the pouch on his hip. "If I get home before you do, I'll order up a pie."

A grin spread across Dante's face – Nero's pizza orders never came with olives on them. "Hell yeah, that's what I'm talking about! Later, kid."

Lady lifted a hand in farewell, and then they were both out the door.

Dante stretched and started getting his gear together.

Ebony and Ivory, check. Coyote, check. Rebellion, check. Dante slipped into his coat, whipping the red leather out behind him as he turned to leave, the slip of paper with mission information in hand.

"Hope it's a decent party," he muttered to himself as the doors swung shut behind him.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

After Dante turned his bike onto Slum Street, the sun was just making its way down. He was filled with a curious eagerness to get home. He parked his baby, and made his way around the front of the building. He was pleased to note the doors were unlocked. It looked like Nero had gotten back first, meaning. . .

Ahhh, yes. The smell of pizza greeted him as soon as he stepped inside. "Kid, what did you get me?" he called as he set his gear to the side and made his way into the main room before rolling to a halt.

"Oh. Lady, you're still here. Hanging out. Like a pal. I guess you do that now." He looked around the room again. "Where's Nero at?"

Lady tossed her hair back at the lackluster greeting, giving Dante her usual semi-glare from where she was sitting on the couch. The tv was on, and a few half-empty take-out containers lay scattered around it - it looked like they had picked up some mexican food before coming back.

"Why hello, Dante. Yes. I'm still here. Hanging out." She gave him an exasperated look. "Nero's in the shower - we just got in a little while ago and he was a mess. How was your mission?"

"Not bad, it was a pretty good time - there was a big one shacking up in there that had some nice tricks. The place was abandoned too so no worries about property damage, either. Nero would've had a blast. Oh, and the pay was great."

Her eyebrow lifted slightly, like she was looking to say something but was waiting for Dante to figure it out and prove he wasn't stupid.

"What? For the love of all that's holy, at least let me eat before you shake me down," he muttered, heading to his desk to open the pizza box. "Oh awesome, it's still hot." He grabbed a slice and took a huge bite, closing his eyes and chewing in bliss. Mmm. Double pepperoni, extra cheese. That was the good stuff.

He swallowed. "So how was your job?"

Lady shrugged, taking a sip from the bottle of soda she was holding. "Went well, nothing too rough - though that's probably thanks to Nero."

"Yeah?" Dante started in on another slice, leaning on the edge of his desk.

"Mmhm. He pulls the enemies off me, gives me room to work at range. I have to admit, I was a bit hesitant about him at first - what with him having devil blood and that huge freaking attitude. But that arm of his is pretty amazing, and he's just a good guy when it comes down to it." She blinked up at Dante. "I approve."

Dante grunted at that one. "Well I'd hope so. You've been dropping by all the time to drag him out with you. It would sure be pitiful if he spent that time being nervous 'cause of you silently projecting hatred at him like you tend to do."

A damp-haired Nero was heading down the stairs, wearing a white wife-beater and a pair of blue pajama bottoms. "Oh hey Dante, you're back," he greeted as he settled back on the couch and pulled his legs up under him. He looked around him at the takeout containers, found his enchiladas, and started munching. "So how was it?"

"Good good, you would have liked the baddie in there. You wouldn't have liked how it smelled, but it definitely wasn't lookin' to just lie down and die."

Nero smirked. "Heh. Sounds like another good day at the seniors' center."

Dante narrowed his eyes as the little punk continued to smirk at him. "Why you little-"

Lady brought a hand up to cover her mouth, shaking her head as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"I'll have you know we're pretty much the same fucking age, Lady, so this brat's calling you an old dried-up bag by extension. Help me out here."

"No I'm fucking not!" Nero glanced over at Lady, looking a little nervous.

"It's fine Nero," she replied, taking another sip of soda and glancing between the two men with her unsettling eyes. "Dante's old man status has so little to do with age, anyway."

"Uh huh." Dante was more pissed than usual at being called old, and then being talked about like he wasn't even there at all. He was taking Lady down with him, goddamn it. "At least I'm not bitter like this one over here. Where does all that rage come from? In addition to gradually drying up, she's probably all sexually frustrated from not gettin' any, which might explain why she's so damned bitch-"

As the bullet tore through his brain pan and before consciousness faded away, Dante reflected that he really should have known better than to go there.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Coming back to himself was a slow process. It was always like the world's worst surprise after getting shot in the head. Yeah, it was truly magical - discovering what degree of paralysis he was gonna be dealing with, and which of his senses were going to be totally boned for a few minutes. It depended a lot on where the bullet had ripped through the old grey matter. One time, everything had smelled like bacon for about half an hour.

At the moment, there was a weird fuzz over Dante's perception. He tried to move, but couldn't. Sounds were coming through to him - but though he did register that they were speech, the noises didn't come together to form units of meaning. He did, however, know that one of those voices was Nero. The loud tone and rapid-fire cadence of his voice let Dante know that he was upset - emotion really coloured the sounds coming out of him.

Dante wanted to reach out, reassure him, but. . . oh, nothing was working. Dante would just have to sit tight and cool his heels until his faculties returned.

It seemed like he was lying on something soft. He picked up a familiar smell, taking a while to identify it. Leather. The couch, then. Nero had probably moved him.

As though from a long distance away, Dante's brain was finally catching the sounds, putting them together with the words, assigning them to the voices. It was like they faded back in after fading out, even though Dante had been able to hear them the entire time. God. This experience was fucking jarring as hell. He'd never gone fuckin' aphasic from being shot in the head before, and he didn't much like it.

"-off it, either you're in or you're out. And settle down. He won't die, you know - he'll just sleep for a bit. I probably couldn't kill him if I tried. And let's be honest, he really was asking for it that time."

"You see what I'm saying though, don't you?" The kid sounded on edge. Talking to Lady would do that to a guy. "Dante being a jackass isn't anything new, but. . . Do I really need to be telling you that this is fucking mental? You need to-"

"Oh, so you think you can tell me what I need to do, little boy?" There was something weird about Lady's tone. Was she. . . teasing the kid? It did seem like she'd really taken to him, because for Lady to drop her work work work attitude to be this friendly was pretty damned unusual.

"What? No way!" Nero sounded extremely alarmed that Lady might take offense.

There was a weird pause, and then a click of the safety going back on. Dante tried to roll his eyes, but even that wasn't working out yet. That woman loved waving her weapons around so much, you'd think she was a short man with a complex. "Maybe it's different in your little church town. Around here, you either deal or get the hell out. You're not my family or my lover, so shut it - you don't get to tell me what to do."

Nero barked a laugh. "Like you'd let me tell you what to do even if I was your lover. Holy crap, just thinking about pulling some 'you must obey your man' shit on you makes my balls shrivel - it's fucking terrifying!"

"Damn straight, I like the way you think." She lowered her voice slightly. "So, how about it? You get to choose between route A or route B, but either way, I'm getting where I'm going." She laughed.

Nero's voice was thick with mirth and he was teasing her right back. "So you don't play games you can't win, huh?" The kid's voice went all low and husky. "Maybe you should pack up your toys and go home then, 'cause I'm pretty sure I can take whatever you are gonna dish out and give it back harder."

It just kept getting more confusing.

"But seriously," Nero continued, "Is there something wrong with the water in this town? You're all crazed. I'm starting to think I should switch to bottled."

Lady laughed at that. "Oh c'mon, you know you love it here. Big city, bigger monsters. If not, you'd still be in that podunk village. So?"

"I still think you're fuckin' mental," Nero said sincerely. He laughed again. "But, you are pretty fun to hang with, so. . ." his voice took a wicked turn. "You're sooo welcome to try me."

Shit was rapidly slotting together in Dante's healing brain, and. . . wait.

What in the actual fuck was he hearing?

Dante frowned internally. Had Nero and Lady really been on that many missions together lately? Had they been flirting like this the entire time without him knowing? Finding out that something of this magnitude had snuck up on him made him uneasy. He didn't like it when relationships changed.

And he hadn't known Nero had it in him to be so suggestive. To be honest, he felt kind of cheated. All the fun he could've had. . .

Lady was following up, sounding positively sadistic. "Oh, I'll try you, all right - you'd better be up for it. Don't come to me crying when you're all worn out with screws coming loose."

By this point, Dante was pretty sure he was hallucinating or something. The kid had been right; getting shot in the head was not good for anybody, even if they could heal it up quick. If he had to go live in a padded room, he swore he was going to start making weird crafts. Portraits made out of macaroni, twigs, dead bugs, and human hair. Yeah, that would do the trick. He was gonna send everything he made to Lady, and he was planning to be prolific.

Nero was laughing. "You're so ridiculous. There is no fuckin' way. If you were looking for someone who'd back down from a challenge, you picked the wrong guy."

"Prove it then. You owe me a good time, and I'm calling it in - we're going out tonight."

"Huh? I was actually gonna chill and maybe have some beers with Dante. I think there's a kung fu thing on tv later that I wanted to catch."

Dante grinned to himself. Yeah, down with Lady's ticking, uterine time-bomb! She could just take her weird hormonal bullshit and shove it up her a-

"Whatever! You can do that anytime. Maybe Dante will want to come too. He's probably about ready to spit that bullet out by now."

"Do you even know how fuckin' sick it is that you're familiar with the time it takes for him to recover from a head-shot?" Nero asked with disbelief saturating his voice.

Aw, the kid really cared.

"Whatever, forget about him. Come on, sweetheart." Dante barely suppressed a shudder. Hearing an endearment spill from Lady's lips was worse than watching god-knows-what spill from a hell-gate. "You can't tell me you aren't at least a little interested in what we've got for entertainment in the city. I bet all you had in Fortuna were pubs full of old-timers."

Damn that woman for taking advantage of how Nero was used to living in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. Luring him in with promises of big city lights so she could jerk him around by his hard-on? This felt a bit like someone luring a child into a van with candy.

Nero made a rueful noise. "Not even. Fortuna's officially a dry town. There's this one place running, but I heard someone went blind after drinking there." He laughed. "Strangely, it's not all that popular."

And damn Fortuna for once again proving it was a fancy-looking village to which all the other villages' idiots had migrated for safety in numbers. Not only did they not appreciate Nero, they weren't even smart enough to bootleg like normal people and instead were using their limited mental capacity to make moonshine. For fuck's sake, the next town was a boat ride away. Dante would not be surprised to hear their local customs included marrying siblings, sacrificing children by lottery, and eating excrement. His dear old dad really had run one huge dud of a town.

"And besides," Nero went on earnestly, "I already went to Love Planet with Dante last weekend, and I'm. . . uh, kind of not interested in going someplace like that again."

"Fuckin' Dante!" Lady growled under her breath. "That ass. Of course he'd bring you there. Trust me Nero, he wouldn't know a decent club if he got hit over the head with one. Love Planet is a dive. Easy, sleazy and cheesy - which happen to be Dante's keywords when it comes to entertainment."

What the hell was with this character assassination going on? He and Lady were going to have to have some words.

Nero was laughing. "Well, all that aside, I think I wrecked Dante's evening, and then I kept him up the rest of the night talking at him about depressing bullshit. He probably wouldn't want me along anyway. I don't wanna stop you guys from having fun. I'll just stay home."

The damn kid seriously thought he wasn't fun? What a load. It wasn't Nero's fault Love Planet had been a losing proposition that night, or that he'd had a crappy life happen to him.

"Nero honey," Lady said in a sweet tone that Dante hoped he'd never hear from her again. "Don't you worry. There is absolutely no way you could possibly ruin the fun I'm about to have." Then, she was back to business. "C'mon, show me where you keep your clothes. I'm gonna find something for you to wear."

"I'd really rather stay-"

"What's this, Nero? You scared or something?" Lady goaded.

_Oh, shit. Game over._

A pointed silence fell, and then Dante heard Nero heave a sigh. "Fine! I know when I'm beat - let's do this."

Dante had a very, very bad feeling - and it wasn't just the bullet that was working its way out of his head.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

* * *

**AN** - So Nero finally gets to talk. I was torn. On one hand, it's kinda cheap to just have him spew it all up. On the other hand, if I went by the book and showed Dante sniffing it all out, I would have died of old age. This is really the only time we will get to see what's in Nero's head, so I let it go because I need to learn to chill the fuck out. Hope it came out okay.

My previous experiences writing multi-chapters have been in big fandoms - I've catastrophically overestimated how much pressure I'd get to stay on top of this and I'm kinda losing my groove. My self-motivation is poor, so the new tactic is to try to write really fast in the hopes that the story is done before I am. Ha! Optimism. . .

Corrections, comments, and criticism are welcome as always. Thanks to the reviewers for kicking my ass - you're lovely!

-Volpa

Edit - I discovered when trying to proofread on my iPod that entire punctuation marks were going missing in mobile version! Smart-quotes and em-dashes were not appearing. I think it's been fixed, but what a bitch! Sorry if people were thinking I was barely literate. Any incompetence left at this point should mostly be my own.


	4. Black Sheep

**Disclaimer**: I have nothing to do with Devil May Cry in any official capacity, and am writing this for fun. 'Tis your birth and faith that wrong you, not I!

**Rating**: M

**Pairing**: Dante x Nero

**Genre**: Romance/Humour

**Warnings**: Yaoi. Language, eventual sexytimes, possible OOC

**Summary**: Dante seems determined to keep flying around in stupid circles, and Lady's about ready to blast his ass out of the sky. Poor Nero gets to watch while it all crashes and burns. Dante x Nero.

* * *

**Holding Pattern**  
by Write-Error

.

**Chapter 3:  
Black Sheep**

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when  
Our common goal was waiting for the world to end

. . .

Send you my love on the wire,  
Lift you up every time everyone pulls away  
It's a mechanical bull at number one,  
You'll take a ride from anyone  
Everyone wants a ride, pulls away from you

_- Metric_

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Dante felt like he'd just been informed that the sky was green.

This had to be some kind of trick. Some new, freakish scam was being perpetrated on him. Dante's world didn't just shift on its axis like this with no warning.

After hogging Nero all day, Lady had just shot Dante in the head, and then snagged the kid out from under his nose when they'd been about to have kung-fu movie night.

Not only that, but the two of them had started flirting.

It was horrible, it was awkward, it was flat-out weird. However, far, far worse than any of that was this: it had been a complete surprise.

Dante didn't enjoy being surprised. It happened so rarely that when it did, he usually became aware of some huge blind spot he'd had. This caused him to wonder about what other blind-spots might be lurking in his otherwise razor-sharp field of perception.

He hated being blindsided, but there it was. It was hard for Dante to think of Lady as a woman. Sometimes he thought of her as a unique, nearly genderless entity that subsisted off rolls of hundred-dollar bills. She did just happen to have fun-bags that she liked showing off at every opportunity, but he'd chalked that up to her just being insanely glad that they'd finally grown in after long years of watering.

He'd always associated Lady most strongly with the pain of being shot in the face. First impressions were the strongest, just like everyone said. In more recent years, her face was inextricably linked with the sad, wistful feeling he got when he only had lint in his pockets and desperately wanted to buy a sundae.

Neither of those associations was even slightly boner-friendly. Now that he thought about it though, he guessed she was pretty hot, definitely a striking woman. Or at least, she would have been, if a person didn't know her the way he did.

Nero had always been around women who dressed like the fashions of the nineteenth century were the height of immodesty. Fortuna women probably thought flashing an ankle was tantamount to advertising for the world's oldest profession. From what Dante had seen of Fortuna, it seemed like they just locked all their women away in the basement - maybe they weren't even allowed to leave the house. The place had sure seemed like a complete sausage-fest when he'd popped in.

That realization provoked a feeling of dread at how this was all gonna play out. Lady's 'work' clothes were nothing compared to the stuff she tried to pull off after-hours. That woman had a pair of short-shorts with corresponding stiletto heels for every fuckin' day of the week. He'd probably footed the bill for half her wardrobe, Dante thought bitterly - it still blew his mind how garments that small could be that expensive. The kid wasn't likely to have any immunity against that kind of optimized leg-exposure. He shuddered to think how this was going to go, especially in conjunction with that witch getting on the dance floor and shaking her girls in Nero's face.

Dante was going to have to go along with this shitty-ass night out and run interference. That sucked hard. All he really wanted to do was hang out at home - decompress, while watching cheesy action flicks with Nero. The senseless flying around and badly synched dubbing was always good for a laugh, especially when Nero got into it and tried to re-enact some of the more improbable wire-stunts.

But no, instead of chilling out and watching Nero ricochet off the walls in his pajamas while making hilarious chopping gestures, Dante was going to have to go with them to a club. Never in his life had he ever thought he'd have to go to such heroic lengths to rescue someone from Lady's no-doubt ravenous vagina. That girl from Love Planet had been right; he was acting like a gigantic chastity belt - but it was all for a good cause. Clearly his supervision was needed.

Dante was fully aware that girls had needs, too. Given that he'd never even once picked up even a hint that Lady was getting her itch scratched, it was likely the kid was in mortal danger. He almost felt like he should give the kid a can of mace and a whistle to wear around his neck. . .

To make it all worse, Dante had really opened a can of worms when he called Lady's attention to her dire and perpetual lack of nookie. She was clearly very angry about the state of things. For all he knew, all those years of not thinking about it would now go up in a spectacular explosion of sexual frustration, taking out full city-blocks in the process. Poor Nero wouldn't know what hit him - at least, not until he was trying to crawl away with his clothing in shreds, doomed to be haunted by a lifetime's worth of nightmares.

Dante was now sitting on the couch, as they waited for Nero to get ready. He'd showered to get the blood and chunks out of his hair, and was now dressed to go out in his favourite black shirt and a pair of black, waxed-denim jeans.

Black on black - perfectly fitting for the day of mourning this was turning out to be.

Dante cautiously looked to his left, where Lady sat next to him, finishing off the remains of her takeout burritos. Nero was getting changed upstairs.

He was going to have a talk with her that he never, ever had thought he'd have to have. In fact, the whole conversation topic struck him as something Lady would be more likely to take him to task for. Not that there was any likelihood of that happening, given the current team roster. This was turning into some absurd dream where everything was backwards: Dante was the prudent, work-oriented one and Lady was the carefree horn-dog. He really hoped he'd wake up soon. Being a protector was really fucking uncomfortable sometimes, but someone had to look out for the kid.

Dante cocked his head to the side, listening for movement upstairs. Nero was still moving around his room.

It was now or never.

He quickly got up, grabbed Lady's elbow and pulled her along with him. He then charged through the kitchen, and down the steps into the laundry area with her in tow. The sound of Lady's boot-heels clicked irregularly behind him as she tried to keep her balance while remaining in pace with his longer stride.

Once they'd reached the bottom of the steps, he leaned back on the hand-railing and ran his free hand through his hair, before turning her to face him.

Calm and cool, Dante thought to himself. Calm and cool.

"Lady, what the hell are you playing at? For fuck's sake, woman!"

Damn. That had not come out as planned.

Dante had anticipated that after his Tourette's-like outburst, she would get pissed off right away, but she was strangely calm. Come to think of it, she'd followed him completely silently. That was definitely not how he'd have imagined she'd react to being dragged around like that. If he'd had to make his final guess with current clues, he'd have said 'Lady, with a bullet, in the laundry room.'

He studied her, puzzled.

Lady shook her elbow free of Dante's grip, and then looked at him with a dispassionate, measuring look in her mismatched eyes. "No. What are _you_ playing at, Dante? We're just going to hang out, unwind, and have a little fun. What exactly are you expecting me to do - ask you for his hand in marriage?"

And that image - well, it was just too wrong to even entertain. Dante hooked his thumbs into his pockets and exhaled in frustration. He was careful to keep his voice low when he continued - not just so Nero wouldn't overhear, but so he could hear his approach if he did come down to find them. God, that would be the most awkward thing ever, but he wouldn't have been all that surprised if the evening somehow managed to degenerate further.

"I'm just sayin' that playing around with Nero is going to be trouble. You don't shit in your backyard, Lady - that's pretty basic stuff. Human relations, intro level - now repeat after me, class: do not shit up your backyard!" He waved his hand in agitation. "Look. If you want to play around, find someone outside of DMC to let it out on. You know that if things go wrong with Nero, it's going to have consequences."

Her brow creased. Dante felt, oddly, like he was a bug under a microscope. Her canny, mismatched gaze seemed to be taking him apart, putting him back together, and coming to conclusions. She was doing some fucking science on him. It was creeping him out.

"And what if things go right?" Her voice was as calm and cool as Dante's wasn't. "Think about it. Maybe it doesn't make sense getting it on with a coworker - if that's the way you're looking at it. But, in some ways, it's the only thing that makes sense, 'cause it's not like we got normal jobs here." She cocked her hip out and made a dismissing gesture in front of her for emphasis. "Outsiders don't get us, Dante. They don't understand what we go through, and they don't get the lifestyle. We don't match up with them." Lady gave him a meaningful look. "And what's with this, anyway? Why am I the one being an optimist here? That's new."

For a second, the image crossed Dante's mind.

Lady, and Nero. Together. Dating - or whatever it was that people did when they weren't just knocking boots with whoever looked good to them that night.

Somehow, it was making him feel ill. Dante could actually feel his gorge rising, and with it a dark, angry tide of anxiety.

"Just. . . lay off him. There are a million other young guys out there who'd be thrilled to help you out with. . . whatever. . . your. . . girl things. . . and stuff." He tried to suppress his discomfort, and completely failed. "It doesn't have to be Nero."

Lady arched her eyebrows, obvious skepticism written all over her face. "You really think there are other guys like Nero out there? I can tell you right now, you're wrong. I'm pretty sure you already know that, too," she said flatly.

Sure, obviously the kid was special, but. . . "Whatever, just keep it cool - an even keel. Things at DMC are going great right now - never fucking better, in fact. There's no point in rocking the boat just 'cause you're interested in Nero's goods. Things don't have to get complicated. Why not keep things the way they are, the way they've always been? No need to fuck it up. You get me? Costs and benefits."

At that, Lady planted her hands on her hips and gave him a firm look. Underneath that, there was a hint of something. Pity? Frustration? Maybe it was a mix of both.

"Dante. You know - you're one stubborn son of a bitch, I'll give you that. But no matter how you try to put everything in a jar and preserve it, things aren't going to stay the same. You can pretend they don't, but things change. Situations change. People either deal with them, or they get left behind."

"I don't like this," Dante persisted.

This was really not his style at all. He didn't get pushy. He didn't butt into other people's business like some kind of neighbourhood watchdog. He'd never been one to twitch the curtain up and get up people's asses about what they did in their own time. Dante did not do the nosy grandma thing. But this time around, he felt driven to keep on it until she saw reason.

This. . . this was really fucking important.

"Nero. . ." he continued slowly, "You know, even though Nero may seem like a cocky little shit, he's been through a lot. Just recently, even. He doesn't need your damage, Lady." He inhaled, pinning her with his most serious look. "If you hurt that kid-"

"What the hell is this?" She crossed her arms, giving him a version of the defiant look he was so used to from her - like she was trying to provoke him. "What's with the overabundance of concern, Dante? You're all worked up. You're giving me the talk. Do you even get why you're on my case when you've never once tried to get in my business before now? Why you've dragged me to the laundry room so Nero can't hear this bullshit? Huh?" she challenged. "I'm losing my patience with you."

Dante glared. This was just going around in circles, and she was pretending like it was _his_ fault? If she'd just back the fuck down, this endless conversation would finally die and they could have been on their way already.

"As I said, Nero's been through a lot, and - hey, I already said this. Imagine that." He threw his hands up in frustration. "Fuck! Fine. You're obviously going to do whatever you want anyway, no matter what I say. Just listen up when I say Nero's not the kind of person you should be messing around with. The kid. . . he takes things serious."

"I think you're underestimating him," Lady patted him on the arm, momentarily dropping her harsh front and softening her tone. "I don't mean him any harm. I actually like him." She paused, looking at him carefully. "You keep calling him 'kid,' Dante, but he's a grown man. He doesn't need you hovering over him like some huge, clueless male mom."

Though the gesture and the words were clearly sincere, they didn't actually make him feel any better. If anything, Dante felt even worse, and it wasn't just anger anymore. It felt like something had just sucked all the goddamned air right out of the room. A stubborn silence settled between the two of them as they stared one another down.

It was fucking stifling.

"What the - why are you guys down here?" Nero's head popped through the doorway. "Lookin' for something? Dude, if you stopped sneaking your socks and boxers into my wash, you wouldn't end up having such a hard time," he grinned.

Dante's usual mask slipped right back on. Lady just kept staring. "Yeah kid, but finding my underwear after you've hidden it is half the fun!"

"Dante, you never find your fuckin' underwear - do you even have any left?" Nero muttered with a shake of his head. "Wait. Don't answer that. Helpful tip - check the box behind the cleaning supplies in the closet."

"Hey Nero," Lady said, snapping out of it. She breezed past Dante on her way up the stairs. "Ready to go? The three of us can take my car to my place, I'll get changed, and we can cab from there."

Dante squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temple. Fuck. It was going to be a long-ass night.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

It was lucky that the three of them were hot. The club was a lot nicer than Dante had expected, and there was some obvious face-control going on as they were ushered into the short line. Lady had gone all out - she was wearing a white, silky, shawl-draped top that came halfway down her arms. When she moved, it shifted, baring parts of her back and shoulders, but somehow nothing was ever quite exposed. It was more modest than Dante had anticipated. However, when he factored in the black satin hot-pants, seamed stockings, and heeled, red short-boots. . . the added coverage didn't seem to make much difference in the scheme of things.

Nero looked good, too. Lady had picked out a pair of tight dark grey jeans. They were so worn that they'd had developed a super-soft, sueded appearance. He had on some kind of fitted, distressed blue top with bleach marks and artful tears all over it, and a thin black undershirt peeking out beneath. Instead of looking like a down-and-out housepainter like he probably should have, he somehow managed to look punk-rock fashionable - lanky and cool.

When they finally made it in, Dante headed straight for the bar. The loud music was already bothering him - for one thing, it wasn't really his scene. For another, he'd recently been shot in the head, and he was thinking that might be a factor in the weird throb that was starting up behind his temple.

It looked like most people there were more interested in dancing, so they were able to find three seats at the second bar. For a couple of minutes, they sat there in an increasingly awkward silence waiting for their drink orders to be served up - that was, until Dante was assailed by a cloud of perfume and a felt a pair of breasts press against his back.

"Dante!" a dark-haired woman greeted.

This one was named Candice. At least he could remember that. He absently chatted with her, friendly and a bit flirtatious, as personable as could be. Then she was on her way again, promising to come say hi again later. Dante turned back to his beer and felt two pairs of eyes on him. "What?" he inquired, not even looking up.

Nero chuckled and nudged Dante's shoulder with his own as he lifted his beer. "You know, it's kind of funny - I could swear you're not even paying attention when you talk to them. And yet, they just eat it up. Do you just pull the same shit out every time? How does that work?"

Dante flashed Nero a toothy smile. "Just my natural charm, kid. The girls love it." He winked.

Lady shook her head, swirling her martini glass. "They just know he's a no-risk proposition. Nero, honey. Don't be like that. Fucking around is probably fun for a couple of years, but after you reach a certain age, it gets harder and harder to pull it off."

Dante pressed a hand to his heart in mock offense. "I pull it off just fine! What the hell is with everyone calling me an old man lately? I'm in my prime, damn it."

Nero patted Dante on the head. "It's okay, Dante. You're not old. You just act like a dirty old man. . . a lot of the time. But you know what?" He smiled. "The rest of the time, you're actually pretty cool."

Dante scoffed. "Thanks kid, you really know how to bring the joy."

"No charge," Nero shrugged.

Lady shook her head and took a considering sip of her aviation cocktail. "It's not that you're old, Dante. As you said before, we're pretty much the same age. The issue is that a mature man living this lifestyle sort of brings me down." She swirled her drink before knocking the rest of it back, meeting Dante's eyes seriously. "Isn't the meat-market a bit unrewarding? I mean, you must've seen it all and done it all by now."

Dante drained his pint and signaled the barkeep for another drink for himself and Lady, sliding a bill across the counter. He couldn't really deny that, so he didn't. Sometimes the best defense was a good offense, anyway.

"Hey, I'm not the one who desperately needed to go to a club tonight," he rejoined. "Drag me out to the meat-market and then give me shit for being here? Not seein' the logic there, Lady. If I had my way, I'd have been watching a dude in a chicken suit learn kung-fu from a centipede right now."

Nero made a sound of dismay. "Wait, tonight was the chicken guy one? Awwww, it sounded so stupid. . ."

Lady smirked. "Guys."

Dante took a long drink from the sleeve the barkeep put in front of him. "And what about you, Lady?" he shot back, peeved. "It's not like you've got someone you're going home to, so it's not like you have room to be ridin' me about this."

Nero gave him a funny look, opened his mouth, froze, and then closed it again.

Lady ran her hand up Nero's arm. "Well, maybe I'm going to fix that," she said.

Dante drank more.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

There was usually a point in the night when people got just wasted enough - or the music got just good enough - for everyone to hit the floor.

That moment had come, and Lady wanted to dance. She led Nero onto the floor not far away from the bar they'd been camping. Dante, waylaid as he followed after them by another girl of his past, got roped into another conversation. After a while, he decided to just stick by the bar - he could keep an eye on them without subjecting himself to too much flashing light bullshit.

At first, everything seemed fine, and Dante was starting to wonder if his worries had just been a pile of paranoia. Nero looked a little bit uncomfortable, doing his version of a typical awkward guy dance.

Dante relaxed and ordered another drink. After about half an hour of more idle flirtation with more chatty girls, he looked up and felt his mouth go completely dry.

Apparently the alcohol had kicked in, or maybe the music grew on the kid, because. . . wow.

It wasn't like Dante hadn't seen Nero dance before. He'd come down on many an afternoon, when Nero was trying to get some exercise in. Nero always got the jukebox set up with his 'go-music,' as he called it.

Then, he'd start his workout - going through a set of push-ups, followed by crunches, followed by pull-ups, then some free weights. After he was done his usual reps, sometimes he'd head out for a run. More often, though, he'd get so involved with what he was listening to that he'd start thrashing around the office in some spontaneous blend of slam-dancing, head-banging, and drumming on random furnishings. Sometimes he'd even start yelling along with the vocals in his full-throated growl.

From the description, it sounded weird as hell, but it was actually pretty awesome - an extremely physical form of music appreciation and stress release combined. Nero looked like unadulterated energy when he did that - the music blasting while he enjoyed himself and completely let loose. Even his devil bringer shone super bright.

When Dante saw Nero like that, it provoked an absurd surge of affection. It was just so him - Nero, reduced down to his most essential qualities. Once he got past the barrier of embarrassment or caring what people thought, he just went all out and threw everything he was into what he was doing - no holding back.

The first time Dante had walked in on that, the kid had immediately gone still. Then, he'd acted all gruff - a pretty sad attempt to hide how he wanted to die of humiliation. Dante had just laughed and sat down at his desk with his feet twitching to the music, pretending to read a magazine. The kid had blustered around, trying to pretend he'd been doing anything else to save face. He'd cleared the trash from the front room and wiped down half the kitchen before it sank in that Dante wasn't going to make any comments about what he'd seen.

Now, Nero went on with his routine even if Dante was around. He wouldn't start it up, but he would keep going if Dante just happened to enter the room. . . which he always happened to do, pretending as best he could that he wasn't watching.

But, yeah.

This dancing was totally different from that.

Dante supposed that the way the kid liked to rock out at home was not appropriate in this crush of a crowd, or with this kind of music. Still, no matter what, Nero put everything into it.

Somehow, Nero managed to move like a break-dancer who'd once had a job at a classy burlesque joint. God. Dante hadn't known the kid could isolate his movements like that. Even the smallest shift of his body seemed laden with heat. The kid moved his body in a fluid, lazy way that was getting all kinds of attention, every now and then pulling something that really showcased how athletic he was.

Damn it. He wasn't even trying - he was clearly pretty buzzed.

Where the hell had Lady gone, anyway? The kid being on the dance floor alone like that was just asking for trouble.

Dante noted with relief that he wasn't getting droopy in his inebriation like he had the night at Love Planet. Since that evening, he'd discovered that Nero wasn't naturally a sad drunk - he was a really chilled-out, happy one after a couple of beers, when extenuating circumstances weren't at work.

At the moment, Nero's eyes were half-closed, and he had a faint smile on his face. He started cracking up at the shrieking chaos that ensued when someone bumped into him and fumbled their drink, pouring half their cold beer down some girl's shirt.

On a dance floor, it was always easy to pick out the people who were displaying their goods, trying to catch the eye and find someone to take home. There was always something. Trying a bit too hard. A lack of joy. Stiffness that sprang from the self-consciousness that came with putting on a show for others' eyes.

It was equally obvious that Nero was just naturally having fun and letting loose. That was always hotter. Dante could already see people picking him out of the crowd and slowly making their way closer to him.

Dante had drained his beer in record time and had gotten to his feet by the time he realized he was in motion.

He froze and tilted his head to the side, wondering what the hell he was doing. He wasn't sure what was going on anymore - just that Nero was up there, moving like he was advertising the best night of someone's life. He'd be swimming in it tonight, if the interest of the girls on the dance-floor was any indication.

And Dante needed to do something, right? Help him out of this situation.

Why? He frowned.

He had to rescue Nero from pussy. . .

As he'd thought, that didn't sound quite right, but the beers Dante had been slamming were not helping him identify his damage.

Just then, as he was arguing with himself, he saw Lady return to the dance floor from the bar area. He was momentarily relieved when she appeared - thank goodness for the arrival of adult supervision.

Dante quickly took back his relieved reaction when she offered Nero her drink and then slipped a possessive hand in the back pocket of his jeans, moving in close as he sipped it. The kid looked a bit disconcerted at her sudden touch, but a couple of beats later, he was back to dancing - blushing and laughing at whatever she was saying in his ear.

Dante gulped. This was the first time he'd seen Lady engage in anything even remotely resembling PDA. Well, if you didn't count Kalina-Ann.

The both of them had turned slightly as they moved in the jostling crowd. Dante could see the two of them in profile now, silhouetted among all the other bodies under the multi-coloured throb of the lights. Lady was obviously enjoying having a game partner to work with, and they played well off each other - nothing too raunchy. Good friends might dance together like that if they were really familiar with each other, Dante told himself. He saw Lady's mouth move as she glared at a girl who was rubbing up behind Nero.

Dante was no lip-reader, but it was simple enough to interpret the syllables shaped by her sneering lips. 'BACK OFF.' _That's right, you tell 'em, Lady._

Then, she pulled herself closer to Nero and tilted her head back. The hand she'd planted on Nero's ass wasn't going anywhere. She was rubbing up against the kid, and as it turned out, she was actually a good dancer, too. The two of them looked hot together - or, at least, they would have, if Dante had not known both of them well enough to find the entire situation wildly disturbing.

He gulped. No, this was so weird that it couldn't possibly be happening. She was just saving the kid by giving him an out - a fake claim that would give him some room to breathe out there.

Or not.

Dante choked on his beer when Lady ran her free hand up Nero's arm, then his neck, then up through his hair. She fisted her hand gently in his silvery locks and tugged the man's face down to hers, whispering something mere millimeters away from his ear.

It was like some kind of slow-motion horror reel. . . only, instead of someone's guts exploding, all Dante could see was Nero's lips parting in surprise, his sweat-dampened face reddening as he took another sip of the drink in his human hand. The fingers of his glowing devil bringer landed lightly on Lady's shoulder before slowly sliding down her arm and settling on the exposed skin at her hip.

Lady took the glass from him and drained it, before carelessly leaving it on the top of a nearby speaker. The kid's eyelids lowered slowly as Lady's mouth slid from his ear, to his jaw, and then hovered. Her lips were practically brushing Nero's as she moved in the fraction of space between them, close enough to swallow the air he exhaled.

She let go of his back pocket, running her hand over his side before hooking her fingers into his waistband to yank him against her. Then, her fingers were slipping up under the back of his shirt while she moved so close she was practically glued to him.

The kid. . . the kid was going along with it, licking the remnants of the drink from his lips. A lazy version of his cocky smirk curved his lips as they danced, the beat of the song becoming louder, deeper, more resonant.

Dante swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry despite the beer he'd just finished inhaling.

Holy. Shit.

His night's objective officially driven out of his mind, Dante ordered another drink.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

One problem with being a half-devil with a cast-iron constitution was that it made it a little difficult to properly get one's drunk on.

It wasn't necessarily that getting drunk was difficult. In that respect, Dante did have a high tolerance, but not an inhumanly high one.

No, the problem was keeping one's drunk going. It got damned expensive really fucking fast, but the thing about it was if Dante stopped, it made starting in the first place seem kind of pointless. Once he got it going, he had to drink almost continuously in order to maintain a decent level of the poison in his blood. Otherwise, he straightened up way too quickly for it to be worthwhile.

He'd been giving it a damned good try that night. Hell, every time his eyes found Nero and Lady on the dance floor, he'd ordered another fucking drink. Then, he'd gotten gregarious, trying to distract himself from the grisly scene. People around the bar had started buying, handing him shots because he was a hell of an entertaining guy once he got started.

Those shots were strong stuff.

That was why, by the time the flow of alcohol dried up and his blood cleaned itself out enough for him to see straight, Dante was already in the back seat of a cab, with a girl sucking on his throat as they got a ride back to her place.

This. . . really hadn't been how he'd envisioned the night ending. Nero, left to Lady's nonexistent mercies.

Dante, left to this.

He turned his head slightly, looking out the slightly fogged glass of the taxi's windows, trying to figure out where the hell they were. All he could see was the faint halos of streetlights going by, distorted and fuzzy through the condensation on the glass. The cab smelled like cigar-smoke and really oniony hamburgers.

The girl's hands were now pulling his shirt out of his waistband and sliding up over his abs. She was just going to town on his neck.

Well. This wasn't so bad.

Dante hadn't gotten any for quite some time - he couldn't even recall how long it had been, exactly. He just hadn't been all that interested in going out and pulling tail. Maybe venting it out a bit would help him stop acting so uptight. He had been weird lately; even he could see it. High-strung. Things were too tense. Random shit was setting him off.

Maybe if he just got some release tonight, he'd be back to his normal self - the teflon Dante that all shit just naturally rolled right off of.

Dante'd never been one to say no to something when it was served up all hot and convenient like this, and he wasn't about to start now. It looked like he had already put the work in, so he might as well enjoy the benefits. He turned his attention to the woman half in his lap - it wouldn't do to phone it in and just lie there like a fish, after all. He had a reputation to maintain, and it sure wasn't one for being passive.

The girl was nice to look at, at least - but she was not his usual style at all. Her light blonde hair was shorter than he usually liked, and her rack considerably smaller. Tall, if those insanely long legs were any indication. Big blue eyes. Definitely pretty, and not a lot of makeup to fake it, either.

He jumped a little when she raked her fingernails over his chest.

Yeow - aggressive as all hell, too. This might be more fun than he'd thought.

"Hey, kitten, no need to get rough with me just yet," he chuckled. "Where you live at?"

"Cap West bank," she breathed, before looking out the windshield and getting back to it. "Almost there."

"Good stuff," Dante mumbled against her mouth. She tasted like cigarettes and fruity girly drinks. Not his favourite combo ever, but not a deal-breaker, either. She wasn't a bad kisser, but he'd never been a huge kissing guy in the first place - it was just number one on the checklist for him before he got to the good stuff.

Dante slid his hand up her back as their tongues pushed back and forth. Oh. Skin. A backless top - good to know.

He felt strangely disconnected the entire time. Maybe it was some kind of after-effect of getting shot in the head, or being kind of sloshed - he didn't really know. It was almost like he was floating up above himself, watching shit happen.

And something was off. This wouldn't normally bother him. Sucking face with a willing lady in the back of a cab - hell, this was generally one of the first indications that he was about to have a pretty damn good night, by his standards. This was what happened when things had proceeded according to plan.

He had to admit, though, that he could have done with being a lot more sober for this. Dante didn't like just coming back to himself in the middle of shit. When he drank, he drank, and that was it. When he was looking to fuck, he focused on that. He didn't mix the two things. He couldn't. It was such a bad idea, given how easy it would be for him to accidentally hurt someone.

He was off-balance, out of control. Dante was always in control of himself and the situation, and somehow this set of circumstances was feeling more and more messed up. . . and for no particular reason, either

The cab pulled to a stop. Dante removed his hand from her thigh and fished out a few bills, paying the cabbie without really thinking too hard. The girl pulled herself off him with great reluctance, sliding her long legs out of the cab and yanking her miniskirt down, and then they were going up the walk of a pretty generic-looking apartment high-rise.

The trip from there to the elevator was a bit of a blur. Dante was still not feeling like all of him was there. He stared at the wooden paneling in the elevator, the little mirror, the chipped-off button for Floor 5, the tan linoleum tiles.

The girl reapplied herself to his body, hands roaming. Dante wasn't even that turned on, come to think of it, but that was something that just happened when a person put enough alcohol in their system. Shit just didn't work quite right. It would be fine though; he'd never let a girl down, even under sub-optimal conditions.

Besides, with the way she was looking at him, kissing him, grabbing his belt, calling him 'baby' - probably because she had as little of an idea what his name was as he had of hers - things were gonna get hot right away.

And then they were inside her place. It smelled a bit like cigarette smoke, but the odor was overpowered with some kind of fruity air freshener and her perfume. It was dark, but she didn't even bother turning on the lights. She just kicked her shoes off, shoved him onto the couch and started attacking his belt buckle.

"Whoa, whoa, honey," he mumbled, "Let me help you out before you rip somethin'." He undid his belt and then let her at it. Seconds later, she was pulling him out of his boxer briefs. He was half-hard at least, thank god.

"Wow, you're big," she breathed, stroking up and down, her blue eyes wide. "I'm going to enjoy this."

Dante watched, still feeling very far away. She pressed her cheek to the side of his erection. Meeting his eyes, she turned her head slowly until her wet lips met his cock.

And in a bright flash, suddenly, Dante wasn't there anymore. He was somewhere else.

An opera house.

Nero was there, his double-barreled gun shoved in Dante's face. Arrogance and devil power were radiating off him. The sharp smell of aggression permeated the air, the chaos around them fading away into a grey blur of noise. Nero's chest heaved with his heavy breathing, his husky shout of anger echoing through the huge space as he launched his body at Dante's. Those strong, lean thighs wrapped around Dante, Nero's blue eyes bright with anger and challenge.

And then, Nero's wicked, sneering mouth - sliding up the side of Ivory's barrel, teeth scraping over the metal, ruining the shot Dante had lined up as he fired.

"Fuck," Dante breathed, eyes closed.

"You like that?" the girl asked in a breathy moan.

Dante shuddered. His erection suddenly swelled, growing hard enough to smash bricks. Pre-come started to well out of him, beginning to leak liberally down the shaft.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Dante groaned. "Oh my god."

All he could see was Nero, superimposed on what was actually happening. Nero, kneeling between Dante's spread thighs, nuzzling at his cock like it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. Nero, lapping at Dante's erection slowly, like he was going to break him down into an incoherent mess of need and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Nero, getting ready to swallow it whole. Mouthing the tip, rubbing his sweet, hot little tongue over the ridge where the crown met the shaft. So warm and wet, his eyes a dark cornflower-blue, sex-hazed, throwing sparks. . .

Nero, Nero, Nero.

Dante's eyes snapped open.

What the fuck was he doing, what the fuck was he thinking? He couldn't. . . he couldn't.

"No. Damn. I can't do this," he breathed. Words were just rushing out of his mouth. "I'm real sorry, I've gotta get out of here. You're super hot and everything, but I've just gotta go."

Then, the girl was blinking, not at all pleased with the way Dante pushed her face gently away, and then actively displeased with the way he was pushing his aching dick back into his jeans and wincing. He got to his feet and moved as fast as his state allowed towards the door, as though the hounds of hell were at his heels.

"What the fuck is your problem?" she yelled, as the door swung shut behind him.

He barely heard it, his head completely done in. Dante's boner went down pretty quickly - his arousal had died a rapid death from the shock and horror that were overwhelming him. He was able to get out of the elevator without limping, which was a plus at least.

God. He couldn't believe it. What the fuck was wrong with him? He rubbed his hand over his face. This was unreal.

This was not happening.

The cab was still there, idling as the driver finished eating a burger. He seemed very surprised to see Dante again so quickly.

"Slum Street, Devil May Cry, I'll tell you when to turn," Dante said gruffly as he got into the backseat again. He pressed his eyes shut.

No thinking allowed. No fucking thinking.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

It wasn't until he was back in his own room, naked in his bed, that Dante allowed himself to think again.

Just as he'd feared, his imagination broke free from the restraints he'd bolted down, and suddenly Nero was there.

Dante's eyes closed. His hand slid down his stomach. He saw it in his mind - so vividly that it was like it had already been in his head, fully formed.

His own hand was fisting in Nero's hair, grasping hard in the fine silk, pushing that handsome face down, fingers massaging roughly at his warm scalp. He was sliding his blood-dark, obscenely aroused sex over that pristine cheek, those parted lips. He was watching Nero's lashes flutter, hearing him let out a low, needy sound as Dante pressed himself against that perfect mouth.

Dante's lips were forming words, silently, compulsively, as he stroked. Just his mouth moving, and he couldn't stop it. The words formed and were choked down, destined to go nowhere - just like this would go nowhere.

Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere.

_Nero, that's it. Your mouth is so hot, baby. Take it, suck it, let me into you. Just like that. Oh, fuck. Baby, I'm going to dirty your sweet mouth, open up wider for me, take more of it. _

_Oh, Nero._

And then Nero's mouth was opening to him, giving in to the pressure Dante was applying. He was letting Dante's cock press at his tongue, at the wet, soft flesh between his firm palate and his throat. That scalding mouth, wrapping around him. Nero's cheeks hollowing, as he sucked wetly at Dante's invading erection, sloppy and loud and fucking divine.

_Oh god Nero, baby, take it all, need you to swallow me down. It's gonna be a lot - fuck, Nero. I got so much for you. . ._

Afterwards, Dante stared at the ceiling. His breathing was still heavy, his mind a careful white blank.

White, like the ceiling he was counting the cracks on. White, like the walls. White, like the semen slowly drying on his stomach and chest.

White, like the milky skin that stretched over Nero's hard muscles, like the pale down of Nero's silky hair.

Blank.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

* * *

**AN - **So! *rolls lifelessly onto the floor*. The whole thing felt like the worst kind of work; thank god no one can tell what I'm writing while I'm waiting for teleconferences and meetings to start - shee-it.

Now more than ever, I would benefit from some ass-kicking. I just acquired Dragon's Dogma. It's mocking me from my coffee table and I am incapable of focusing on two things, so I'm trying to just blaze through this and finish this story. Reminding me that a few people would like to read it helps a lot.

I have revised my plan and stripped stuff due to pathetic endurance and fears of trying to pen another epic. With luck, I'll be following through with my cheesy romance and finishing within 2-3 chapters, depending on how much porn I decide to include. Let me know if you spot a typo. As usual, comments and criticism are so very appreciated! Thanks guys.

**Edit:** It has come to my attention that someone was surprised that this story was yaoi and/or would have sex in it. I'm kind of flummoxed by this and laughed quite a bit. But then, it occurred to me that there is a subset of the population that needed warnings on cups to let them know that pouring hot coffee on your crotch will, in fact, result in a burned crotch. So. For anyone else who thought this might not be a romance story that will contain sex between Dante and Nero even though I think it's pretty clearly marked up top, I am so sorry to blow your no doubt prodigious minds. It is, and it will.


	5. Red Hands

**Disclaimer**: I have nothing to do with Devil May Cry in any official capacity, and am writing this for fun. So yeah, was it just me or was E3 a total snooze? I guess I can only look to TGC for hype this summer. As for DmC, feelings are expressed by sadface.

**Rating**: Eventual M

**Pairing**: Dante x Nero

**Genre**: Romance/Humour

**Warnings**: Yaoi (this means dudes boning dudes, fyi). Language, eventual sexytimes, possible OOC

**Summary**: Dante seems determined to keep flying around in stupid circles, and Lady's about ready to blast his ass out of the sky. Poor Nero gets to watch while it all crashes and burns. Dante x Nero.

* * *

**Holding Pattern**

by Write-Error

.

**Chapter 4:  
Red Hands**

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

Maybe this is just a work of art  
Scripted players in a play of lust

. . .

Was it bitter when you tossed and turned  
On his under-covered mattress  
Did it feel so good, hope it felt so good  
Don't know what I'd do if you lost sleep over little old me  
He's so much better, they're all much better  
Take off your sweater, your shoes, and your shirt  
And get to work

_- The Dear Hunter_

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Dante was dozing in his bed when he was prodded into full consciousness by the sound of the front doors opening.

At first, he was a bit disoriented, and then - almost immediately - pissed off beyond belief. He took a cursory glance through bleary eyes at the angle of the light entering his room. It couldn't have been later than seven in the morning.

What kind of ass-hat walked into a fucking place of business at seven in the morning? The kind that wanted to get a strip torn off him by Dante, goddamn it!

Dante blinked as a low-intensity feeling of dread washed over him. He was missing something important, there was this niggling feeling at the back of his mind - oh.

The previous evening was coming back to him.

Went to a club. Saw things he shouldn't have seen - but, sadly, no one had killed him to ensure his silence. Was in a cab with a chick that, now that he thought about it, looked a little bit like. . . whoa there, not thinking about that. Then, a bunch of scenes with mosaic-style censoring over them - Dante just couldn't handle revisiting those memories. His mind was doing its level best to protect him, soft-core porn style.

His eyes widened. His sleepiness was rapidly forgotten. Dante's mind insisted on putting two and two together with the sound of the doors clicking shut.

Oh, shit. Nero had come home. Nero was home. . .

Nero had been out all night with Lady!

Righteous anger propelled Dante's body, causing him to leap out of bed.

He charged towards the door of his room like a raging elephant-bull whose elephant-bride had been caught stepping out on him. His hand was already turning the doorknob by the time he looked down and recalled that he was buck naked. Worse still, he had dry, easily-to-identify stuff all over him that would alarm Nero - maybe even as much as it alarmed Dante himself.

"Shit," he muttered, leaning his forehead against the door, trying to let the cool wood draw the excessive heat out of his head. "What the fuck is wrong with me - this doesn't even make sense." He grabbed a towel where it hung on the back of his door and wrapped it around himself, making his way into the bathroom with the utmost stealth. He needed to wash up. He needed to forget what he'd done and who he'd been thinking of doing while he did it.

Dante closed his eyes and sighed as the heated water washed over him. Under the warm spray, with the familiar clanking sounds of DMC's none-too-robust plumbing to soothe him, things started looking better to Dante's eyes - like all his weird stress and panic were rinsing away along with the evidence of his transgressions.

He was taking this whole. . . incident. . . way, way too seriously. Sure, it was shocking - but it was also just a brain-hiccup.

Dante blamed Lady and that damned bullet of hers for scrambling things around in there. Why beat himself up about it? If dudes were to be held accountable for whatever crossed their minds while jerking it, the entire gender as a whole would be in a shit-load of trouble. There was no deep meaning to any of it, and there didn't need to be.

Hell, Dante had gotten off picturing a piston-action water pump before. That didn't mean he had any desire to make sweet love to a goddamned water delivery system.

This was no big deal - no big deal at all.

He was feeling better already.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

After his shower, Dante pulled on a red t-shirt and a pair of black warm-up pants before heading downstairs to grill Nero. Just out of curiosity. Not because of anything else.

He was just. . . curious.

Nero stood in the kitchen in front of the open refrigerator, sluggishly pouring some juice into a glass. He replaced the carton on the top shelf - weirdly enough, it seemed to take him multiple attempts. Nero then made his listless way to the little table, sitting down in an odd, slumped posture.

He barely showed any reaction to the other man's presence, which made Dante frown. The kid appeared to have looked hell in the face and emerged an older, more terrified shell of a man. Okay, maybe that was a bad comparison - the kid wouldn't have any real issue with hell-spawn - he'd probably have a grand old time. . .

Oh, no. This was so much worse.

Holy crap, Dante realized in horror. That slump of despair. The thousand-yard stare. The kid. . . had he boned Lady?

"What the fuck did you do!" he demanded, grabbing Nero by the shoulders and shaking him.

Nero had been trying to take a drink of his juice, and he was now covered in it. He looked up at Dante, his bleary blue eyes looking vague and reproachful.

Dante was in panic-mode. Why the fuck was he so pissed? This shouldn't be a big deal. It wasn't like. . .

It wasn't like. . .

He hurriedly released Nero, who - alarmingly enough - wasn't even slightly agitated by Dante's outburst. He just looked down at himself, and then pulled the juice-soaked material of his shirt away from his chest with an offended look on his face. He then made a sad attempt to wipe his face and neck dry with his hand and the hem of his top.

"Yeah, that's a _great_ question, Dante. What the fuck did I do? What the hell is your problem, man?" Nero mumbled. "Seriously, what on earth are you even talking about? I'm just trying to drink some fucking juice and you gotta attack me?"

No, Dante thought to himself, vaguely horrified. Shit. The kid was right. He was acting really fucking weird, and he had to stop it now. He forced himself to calm down.

_Normal Dante, activate._

"Just didn't think you'd be out all night, kid," he replied evenly.

Nero just kind of sneered.

Dante felt a little hopeful - that was not a happy 'I just got laid' sort of expression. However, it was possible that a night with Lady worked differently and did not result in any feelings of happiness or satisfaction - only despair. Nero looked fucking exhausted. Dante didn't want to think too much about that.

"I crashed at Lady's; it was closer to the club and all." He looked at Dante curiously, seeming eager for a change of topic. "Oh yeah, how was your night? We didn't see you go - I kind of figured you wouldn't be home, since she said you'd probably left with a chick."

Nero looked around, as though he was belatedly realizing something. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "Oh hey, did you bring someone here? I could clear out for a while," he yawned. "Just lemme change my shirt first. Maybe I shouldn't have ran out the door as soon as I saw daylight." He made an unhappy sound. "I don't wanna go back there. . ."

Dante grabbed Nero's arm before releasing it like he'd discovered it was on fire. "Fuck, no! No one's here, don't go back there. Just. . . no. Go ahead and get to bed."

Nero looked relieved. "Phew. I'm beat. Lady is insane - I cannot deal with that woman. Even if it's for the greater good, I just dunno about her. I don't know how you deal with. . ." Then, abruptly, Nero slumped forward. He rested his devil bringer on the table and then dropped his forehead on it like he was just going to pass out right then and there.

Dante was going to kill Lady. Okay, maybe not kill her because he did kind of like her and it was against his policy, anyway. But he could stomp on her a few times. Maybe throw her out a window. . .

Goddamn it, no! No, no, this was not where he'd been going.

Some cold, clear logic was called for. What Nero did, and with whom - well, that was his own damned business if he kept it out of their home. It wasn't any of Dante's concern. And anyway, what he'd been thinking about last night. . . well, that was nothing - just some neural impulses going temporarily haywire. Like a car backfiring, or phone lines getting crossed.

With as dispassionate an eye as he could manage, Dante took the opportunity to take an evaluating look at Nero while he was completely defenseless. He wouldn't notice the prolonged staring, because he was slowly becoming one with the table.

Yeah, totally safe.

Dante released the breath he'd been holding. It was just Nero - the same old Nero Dante was used to seeing, the same kid he was used to being comfortable around and acting normal around. He could do that again - no problem. He wasn't going mad with lust, picturing Nero naked, having any strange urges to rip his clothes off. Nothing like that at all.

Everything would be a-okay. This was not a big deal.

Dante heaved an inner sigh of relief. Just a freak incident, as he'd suspected. He had been drunk. It wasn't gonna happen aga-

Just then, Nero sat up with a look of irritated discomfort on his face. His eyes were still half closed, and suddenly. . . suddenly he was peeling his wet, sticky shirt and undershirt off.

Dante licked his lips at the sight - it seemed to be happening in slow motion in the bluish light of the overcast morning. First, the pale indentation of his hip was exposed where it peeked out from the waistband of his low-rise jeans. Then, the silver line of hair on his flat belly. Then, firm abdominal muscles, more skin, his well-defined chest, marked with the faint lines of old scars. Light pink nipples tightening in the cool air. Nero's shoulders and arms, gleaming like marble, his devil bringer pulsing with a quiet light.

Then, Nero stood and stretched, eyes closed, as he yawned. His eyelashes cast shadowed crescents on his cheeks and his head drooped a little before he caught himself. He looked like he was going to fall asleep any second.

That sleepy, soft look on his face. That gorgeous, firm body, faintly glowing arm and all.

Nero was. . . oh, god. Nero was ridiculously hot. Utterly fuckable.

Dante could feel his body heating, blood flowing steadily south as he swelled insistently in his pants.

The younger man turned towards the kitchen entrance with unsteady movements, seemingly dead to the world. Thank god for that, as Dante's physical state and loose warm-up pants were adding up to a pretty indecent situation, and his brain was so fried that it didn't occur to him to try and cover it. Nero didn't even glance at him - his eyes were barely even open. Dante just watched. He felt helpless, rooted to the spot, and he was pretty certain he was salivating. The younger man began to move in a slow shuffle out of the kitchen and towards the stairs as though he were the sexiest zombie ever.

Nero was blissfully unaware of Dante's gaze on his back, of Dante's brain slowly breaking. . . of Dante's boner trying to fight its way out of his pants just from looking, even though he should have been way too old to be reacting to the sight of a bit of skin. . .

Fuck. Dante swallowed. This was really happening. It wasn't just some freak accident.

He wanted Nero. He wanted Nero, and he wanted him really fucking bad.

This was a big fucking deal.

Dante remained frozen in place, wide-eyed and uncomfortably aroused, until he heard Nero's door close. He then beat a hasty retreat to his own room.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

His current situation was such a mess that Dante wasn't sure where to even start processing it. It was one thing to take things as they came and roll with the punches. That was the way he'd always lived his life and it went fucking fine.

Well, usually.

It was another thing to suddenly have a million punches thrown at him simultaneously. There was nowhere to roll. It was like an avalanche had been set off, growing into a huge cascade of shit that Dante just didn't know how to deal with.

He had to break this down into more manageable pieces.

Okay, most glaring issue first. The fact that he'd just gotten off three times while imagining doing the most delicio- no - wrong, bad things with Nero - well, that was a problem.

There was also the unsettling realization that his cock had chosen now of all times to suddenly get all picky and selective. It was really, really specific about wanting Nero.

Just Nero.

This was a new development. Dante had always had a high sex drive. He'd always thought it was an advantage all around; fucking was one of the more reliable, enjoyable ways to calm his devil blood down when he was feeling aggressive and needed to manage himself, so it was a good thing if he did it often and repeatedly.

However, when it came to sex, he'd always been more concerned with the outcome of the hunt than he'd been with the specifics of his prey. It wasn't like he didn't have his preferences, but he'd always been a bit lazy, now that he thought about it. If his efforts with one woman who got his engine running didn't seem to be panning out, there was always another pretty face to catch his eye and turn his attention to. He'd never really felt he was missing out when his plans changed.

Nero, however - well, this was different. Dante had noticed he hadn't had the urge to go on the prowl for a little while now. To his horror, he realized that the suspicious quieting of his libido had roughly coincided with Nero's arrival at the shop.

Now it was fed up with being quiet, and it only wanted Nero.

Dante didn't like this non-transferable thing he now had going on. It was hard to deal with. He was all pent-up, and it seemed like the only avenue available to him was embarrassingly frequent masturbation. Like, really ridiculously frequent - so much so that he was having flashbacks to the days in his youth after he'd first discovered what stiffies were. It was unreal to be in this endless priapic state again. If it got much worse, he'd need to be dragged out of his bedroom in order to become a part of society once more.

The Nero in his head was getting a serious work-out. Luckily, the Nero in his head was very flexible, had boundless energy, and was up for anything.

Another problem - Nero was a man. A dude. A guy, complete with the height, the muscles. . . and the junk. While he wasn't built super-beefy or anything, there was no denying it. Nero had a handsome face, but it wasn't a feminine kind of beauty. No one would ever mistake him for a chick - especially with that arrogant swagger and the brash way he conducted himself.

Dante had always been pretty damned straight. He'd always thought of sexuality as a fluid thing, that most people were a little bit queer even if the ideal combination of prospects and circumstances never really came to pass - but he'd never really thought too much about how that applied to himself. Girls had always been the order of the day. They were always around and available, and they loved Dante. They'd always been the path of least resistance, the road more travelled, and he'd always been opportunistic that way.

This, though? Dante could barely believe this was happening to him, but the evidence was there. He was gay for Nero. He desperately wanted to screw Nero's ass, and then do it over and over again with pornographic fervor until the younger man kicked him out.

He'd tried to deter himself by thinking about how things really would pan out, in the real world - the world where Nero wasn't the type to coyly poke a finger at his cheek and consent to being some dude's butt-slut. After all, it was Nero - he really, really was not the 'give in and take it' type. If things happened between them, there would be no real way out of giving Nero his ass, too. However, imagining that outcome hadn't had the chilling effect Dante had thought it would. The more he thought about it, the hotter it seemed. He'd always been game to try new stuff. The idea of it - of Nero, pushing him to the mattress, lips parted, staring down at Dante with lust-dark eyes while he. . .

Oh, fuck.

However, the biggest problem by far was the fact that it was _Nero_.

Dante had been one-hundred-percent serious when he'd talked to Lady that night before going to the club - and everything still applied. It was a bad idea all around. They worked together. They relied on each other. They were close; Nero trusted him. They lived together - and so far it had been the best arrangement Dante had ever had. He liked it - he liked everything the way it was. He had no intention of fucking that up, ruining their friendship, or worse - driving Nero away.

He was just too important for Dante to run him off over something this trivial.

So, the verdict was in.

Dante was just going to have to find a way to bury this obsession he had.

He'd smother it, starve it, wait until it burned out into nothing but ashes . . . he just had to hang tight, until everything went back to normal again.

It was gonna be rough, though.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

"Hey Dante," Nero greeted, coming into the office area from the kitchen as Dante came through the door.

Another day, another late return from a solo mission.

It just seemed safer that way. Dante had to keep himself occupied, keep himself moving because he didn't enjoy thinking too much lately. It had the side benefit of also keeping him out of the kid's orbit.

"Hey," he greeted blandly, hanging his sword and coat.

"There's pizza," Nero indicated with a wave towards Dante's desk as he settled in on the couch. He pulled one leg under him and stretched the other out. He wore his usual tank-top and pajama-bottoms combo, and was holding a bowl of popcorn in his lap. "MMA's gonna be on in a bit too, if you wanna watch."

Dante opened the box and blinked. It smelled great, but. . . "What's this?" he asked, gesturing as if he'd found some kind of alien inside the pizza box. "It's. . . green."

Nero grinned. "Just try it - it's some new one they're doing at Pizza One. It's got. . ." he furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "Lessee. . . Spinach. Pesto. Feta. Roasted garlic. Some egg and parmesan and other stuff. . ." He tried to recall the other toppings, and then shrugged. "Anyway, no olives."

Dante grabbed a slice, folded it over and took a gigantic bite. "Hey," he observed sloppily, his mouth full. He brought the box to the couch and sat down. "This is actually really good."

Nero gave Dante a super-fake look of surprise, covering his mouth with his hand and widening his eyes. "Well I'll be damned, this motherfucker's actually eating a vegetable!" he crowed, before bursting into laughter.

Dante shoved another slice into his mouth and held it there, slapping Nero lightly upside the head with his free hand. "Whatever," he replied distractedly as loud music announced the match coming on tv. "I eat vegetables all the fucking time. Tomato sauce is a vegetable," he defended.

"Suuure it is." Nero slid a sidelong glance at the pizza box. "Hey. That actually looks really good."

"It would. God, you're such a weird kid. Wrap it up in green stuff, and you'd eat anything."

Nero snickered and kicked at Dante's leg with his bare foot. "Ha. Ha. How the hell do you not get scurvy? It's weird."

The match started, and they both settled in to watch the most refined of gentlemanly pursuits - grown men beating the shit out of each other for the entertainment of all and sundry.

"Oh man, check out that dumb fucker!" Nero laughed, a piece of popcorn flying out of his mouth. "What the hell is this, a slap-fight?"

"He's pretty fuckin' helpless," Dante agreed, stealing some popcorn out of Nero's bowl through his half-hearted attempts to defend it. "Other guy's gonna own his ass. The only suspense here is how long it'll take before he gets bored of all the flailing." He pointed two fingers and pretended to shoot at the screen. "Ka-blam!"

"FINISH HIM!" Nero hollered, shaking his fist at the screen before shoving more popcorn into his mouth.

A few minutes later, Dante was polishing off the second to last slice of his pizza. Nero kept shooting these longing glances at the pizza box - but it seemed he knew better than to ask.

Fuck.

The older man lifted the box up in front of Nero's face - anything to get the kid to stop gazing at Dante's lap with that starved expression on his face. "Hey, want it?"

Nero's eyes widened in shock. The last slice was always Dante's. Dante knew he didn't share well. It was one thing if he had just started in on the whole pizza, but usually there was no chance in hell he'd let go of the last slice - scarcity only made him more selfish. Still, Dante thought Nero's stunned reaction was kind of extreme.

Quick as a flash, the younger man snatched the slice away, and then - inches away from Dante's horrified eyes - he licked it up and down in two long strokes of his pink tongue. "No take-backs!" he smirked, before starting in on his prize.

Dante was deeply grateful that the kid had turned back to the tv and was eating with single-minded focus. He hurriedly placed the pizza box in his lap, using the cover to pull the hem of his shirt out of his pants, just in case. Fuck. This was ridiculous, and it wasn't getting any better as time passed. He was starting to despair of it ever improving. He couldn't even hang out with Nero like normal - not anymore, not without wanting to shove him back into the couch and pull his dick out. Not without wanting to ask Nero to touch him, suck him, even just watch Dante jerk off and come on him, anything.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Inwardly, Dante wilted a little. Outwardly, his cock did the reverse. This was depressing as hell, and reaching truly pathetic levels. Why. . . why couldn't this fixation he had just die already?

"Fuck," Nero mumbled, chewing in contentment. "Thish is sho good. I want more."

Dante shot to his feet like he'd just noticed the couch had been infested with man-eating bugs or something. He held the pizza box in front of him. "Well, then! I'm gonna go. . . shower. And then go to bed. 'Night, kid," he managed abruptly before hightailing it up the stairs.

"Okay, see ya tomorrow," Nero grunted. Dante could feel the kid's puzzled gaze follow his back as he retreated.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

She was a fuckin' plague.

She was a goddamned nuisance. A vermin infestation. A pox on his house. An unbearably itchy rash in a hard-to-scratch area.

No, maybe she was more like a bad smell that wafted into his home and couldn't be aired away - not even with the aid of a little pine-tree-shaped freshener thingie.

Dante, behind his desk as usual, watched with narrowed eyes as events unfolded on the couch where Lady and Nero were seated.

She'd been at the office all the time. It was as though she suddenly didn't give two shits about making money anymore - a sure sign that whatever hormone cocktail she'd been swigging had severe personality-altering properties.

Another day. . . and there she was again, lingering around Nero like the deranged wife he never wanted. The kid was too fuckin' soft to make like any decent gothic hero and lock her in some mouldering attic somewhere. There, he could just let her scare the neighbourhood with flickering lights, caterwauling, and occasional bouts of pyromania, while he lived free - hitting on governesses, riding Dante's lap like a rodeo star. . . or whatever else he felt like doing in his spare time.

For some reason, the kid let her hang all over him, but it seemed like he was really losing patience with her weird advances. In fact, Nero had been quite obviously getting annoyed with her.

But that didn't mean this shit-show was stopping, and Dante was its captive audience.

Dante got it - he really did. He too had made a lot of bad calls where women were concerned. Or. . . he had, at least.

That had been back before his sex drive had died and then come back from beyond like an eldritch horror: fucked up, stronger than it had been in life, and eating its way out from inside him.

But, yeah. Before that grotesque twist of fate, it hadn't been like Dante's knack for picking sane ones had developed overnight. Some did slip through the cracks - like Fiona - but for the most part, he'd perfected his screening process.

Nero, on the other hand, had been living in monk-town. Fortuna had been chock-a-block with crazies, so the kid probably didn't have the greatest calibration on his weirdo-detector anyway. However, he did seem to have some kind of natural aversion for nut-jobs because, at the very least, he seemed slightly put off by Lady's apparently ravening lust for his flesh.

Still, letting his hormones hurl him into mortal danger was not healthy. There had to be limits to where a guy was willing to put his equipment. In Dante's mind, Lady's lunchbox seemed only slightly more hospitable than a gaping maw full of razor-sharp fangs.

Women of her age were up for it all the time – it was like the tail end of a woman's reproductive prime. All they wanted to do was shag often and repeatedly in their body's last push to get knocked up. It was the perfect time to hoodwink Nero's sexy, naive ass and con him into spawning with her through use of her theoretical sex appeal.

Dante would have fabricated an out-of-town mission to get away from this constantly repeating, grisly scene. . . but he didn't. He was worried she'd be draining the kid dry like an enraged succubus as soon as he left the two of them alone together. The one thing saving his sanity so far was that the pair never withdrew to Nero's room - but Dante's patience was wearing thin, and each day saw his threshold for an angry explosion getting lower.

Today, Lady had brought Nero some magazines with ideas for modifying Blue Rose, along with a case of custom hollow-point bullets that the kid seemed to be extremely pleased about. The two of them were currently on the couch, and she was taking advantage of Nero's gratitude to press up against his side while he was off his guard and flipping through the publications.

Dante couldn't help but be bitter about it. The money for those gifts was probably Lady's by way of his pockets anyway - and was he cuddling with Nero? No, he fucking wasn't!

At that point, he got a bit horrified at the way he was thinking. Lady was totally milking the sugar-mama angle, but that didn't mean Dante had to start thinking like some old bag clinging to her gigolo.

"Honey, you're adorable," Lady said at Nero's enthusiasm.

When Dante looked up, he nearly snapped. She was rubbing her hand on the kid's chest like she thought a genie would pop out and grant her three million wishes.

Lately, Dante had wondered on occasion about whether he'd actually been sucked into hell at some point last week. It would make a shit-load of sense if he was unconscious somewhere, with some mind-control demon fucking with him that entire time. Everything unfolding around him lately was so wrong, wrong, wrong. It was slowly sapping his will to live - and that tended to be the primary objective of most mind-control demons.

Of course, if that were the case, there was a new kind of demon that concocted really strange scenarios that made people constantly doubt their own sexuality and hate their friends. Even in his borderline paranoid state, Dante thought that sounded kind of far-fetched and subtle for the typical demon's feeding habits.

But. . . surely real life couldn't be this fuckin' awful. He would actually have preferred the demon scenario to this unending trauma; he could finally kill one of the parties involved and make everything better.

"I'm not fucking adorable, and I'm not your honey, so don't call me that!" Nero said, with a little hint of a growl in his voice. Dante gripped the edge of his desk until it creaked.

"Whoa. . . hands! Hands! Let's keep this clean!" Now Nero was all flustered and mad as he tried to shove Lady's rogue appendages back to a safe distance. No wonder Lady was on him like white on rice - he was attractive as hell when he was embarrassed or angry, let alone both together.

Okay, that was it. If Dante didn't get to vent his anger, he was probably going to burst a blood vessel or something.

He kicked his feet up on his desk, crossed his arms and slapped on his best sarcastic tone. "Look Lady. We understand you're real hard-up, but have some respect for the laws of decency. Stop trying to molest impressionable young people. If you can't stop your pedo leanings, at least tone it down. Think of me for a sec. I'm stuck here in my place of business, watchin' the painful courtship rituals of social retards. It's not my idea of fun, you got me?"

Lady got to her feet, eyes narrowing.

Dante continued, unperturbed by her fulminating stare. "It's excruciating. This feels like the shittiest wildlife show ever filmed." He leaned forward, shoving his feet back under his desk, and made his hands into little claws in front of him. "Grr! Mate with me, I have brought you offerings!" he mocked, before dropping the pose and crossing his arms again, kicking at the floor. He scowled. "I mean, for fuck's sake-"

Quick as a flash, Lady was staring him down over the barrel of her gun. Dante met her glare without giving an inch. God, he was fed up. He was starting to look forward to the moments of unconsciousness that were sure to follow.

Just then, Nero leaped up from the couch and grabbed her by the arm.

"Lady," he said, serious and commanding.

Dante's chest tightened.

God, that voice was ridiculously hot - all low and manly. Now he was fucking pissed that it had been her name on Nero's lips. It was probably getting her engine running, because it sure was making things happen inside Dante's pants.

Lady gave no outward indication that she'd noticed the sheer underwear-immolating power of Nero's tone, but she did listen. Dante was shocked when, with a flick of her fingers, she flipped the weapon over in her hand by the trigger-guard and then slid it back into its holster.

"You of all people don't need to be acting like an uptight prude, Dante," she said calmly, as though she hadn't just been intending to blow a hole through him. She then turned back to Nero and leaned over where he'd collapsed back to his seat on the couch. He was looking rather worn out by all the drama.

Lady rested her forearms on Nero's shoulders - probably giving Nero an unobstructed view of her tits. Dante noticed he was pulling a fist under his desk and quickly relaxed his hand.

"Don't listen to him, Nero. Age is just a number. You're good at the job, you're good-looking, you're a sweetheart, and you work hard. What's not to like? Anyone in their right mind would be interested."

Nero was now bright red, and looking extremely uncomfortable - his eyes were darting this way and that, as though he wasn't sure where to look with her knockers right in his face.

Dante's desk started to creak like it was screaming for help. His fingers ached where they had grabbed onto the edge of the wood, and it seemed to be rapidly losing its structural integrity.

More than anything, what Dante wanted was to hit something - but he couldn't let it happen. That would just lead to more destruction, more expenses, more debt, and ultimately more Lady - draping herself all over his office, bent on taking his money and Nero, making his life into a complete misery.

"C-could you please stop it?" Nero hissed. "I mean, this is really awkward for me. I didn't think you'd just keep going on with this forev-"

Lady pushed her finger against his lips.

Dante's eyebrow twitched upwards, wondering what the kid had been saying now that Lady did the 'hush that's a secret' thing. He wanted to drag her off Nero and send her packing to someplace she wouldn't be trying to molest the kid like she had four hands. Just at the moment when he was contemplating what locations could suitably contain Lady's menace, the tension-laden silence was interrupted by the ring of the office phone.

It didn't have a hope in hell of ringing a second time.

Nero launched himself to his feet, vaulted over Lady, did a flip over the edge of the desk, and snatched the receiver up as he landed on the other side.

"Hello?" he greeted in a rush, sounding harried. "Please tell me you have a password and a job for me. For fuck's sake, make one up if you have to. I will accept any password right now. Any job. Fuck, I will go across town and personally walk your dog."

Dante watched as a look of relief crossed Nero's face. The kid's eyes closed briefly, a little smirk curling his lip. He swallowed. Nero was fucking cute as hell.

"Oh, good. I think you literally just saved my sanity. Yeah, where? Uh-huh. Okay, about how many of them did you see before. . . What did they look like? Uh huh. Yeah, I know those guys."

Nero maneuvered himself around Dante's desk and opened the drawer, his side brushing the other man's shoulder as he rummaged for a notepad and a pen. "Yeah, yeah, just give me a sec. What? No, don't call those jokers, all they do is scream and run around in a circle - waste of time and money. And what's your phone number? No, that won't be a problem. I'll come by once it's taken care of." He scribbled something on the pad and then ripped the page off, shoving it in his pocket.

"Yep. I'm gonna be right there." He paused. "Ha! No way! The dog-walking was a limited-time offer, I'm back to killin' uglies now." He rolled his eyes, thrusting his fingers through his hair. "Yeah? Well, too bad, buddy. Find a kid on your block or somethin'." He paused, staring at the ceiling and visibly counting to ten. "Mister, I don't care if he has sticky hands or smells like pee and cabbages. . . what the hell am I, your shrink? I'll be by for the payment when the job's done." With a jerk of his shoulder, Nero flipped the receiver back into its cradle, and started striding towards the door.

"I'm takin' the bike, Dante," he called over his shoulder as he grabbed the keys, sliding Red Queen onto his back and shoving some of his new bullets into his pouch. "Got a job. Don't wait up." He stopped and turned, glaring at the two of them while pointing to each in turn. "Seriously, both of you - don't be in this room when I get back. I dunno - go bowling together, kill each other, whatever floats your boat. . . I don't wanna have to deal with you guys tonight." With that, he spun on his heel and was out the door in a flash.

Dante and Lady stared, stunned, in the direction of Nero's hasty exit. Then, as one, they turned to look at one another.

"Dante, you're acting like an asshole," Lady stated matter-of-factly. "It's making Nero uncomfortable."

"Lady, you're acting desperate," Dante mimicked, swiveling slightly in his chair as he picked up a magazine and tried to look like he absolutely didn't give a shit. "It's making Nero want to book you for a spaying."

She snorted, before shoving her shades up onto her hair and pinning Dante with a curious stare. "You know, I never would have figured you for a cock-block." She stalked over and planted her palms on his desk with an evil smile curving her lips. "Think you're gonna do something about it?"

Dante snorted. "It figures you'd have a cock to block." He made an overly-concerned face. "Wait," he gasped. "Does Nero know about your irregular genitalia?"

She let that go, tilting her head to the side and smirking. "Ha, ha, Dante. The way I see it, you can bitch all you want, but you won't do anything to stop me. In fact, you're not even gonna try." With that, she straightened, adjusted Kalina-Ann on her back, and sauntered out the door like she'd fucking won something.

Dante sat there, rather shocked and confused about the brazen challenge he had just been issued. Was that even a challenge? He had no idea what she was trying to get at anymore. Girl-hormones were no fucking joke.

Dante sagged back into his chair with a sigh. He probably _was _in hell with a really weird, new mind-control demon.

Goddamn it. When he finally tracked it down, he was gonna kill that thing so hard it would go back in time and implode in its mother's womb.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

A few days later when Lady stopped by in the office in the late afternoon, the atmosphere was notably dark.

Dante had been sitting behind his desk. There had been no calls all day. Though he knew that sticking around the place was a stupid thing to do under the circumstances - it was fucking uncomfortable, after all - somehow, turning tail and leaving smelled like defeat.

Dante didn't do defeat. This was his fucking territory. He was digging his heels in and holding the line, no matter how goddamn awful it was becoming.

So instead of making a break for it, Dante was doing the manly, brave thing - hiding under a magazine and playing dead.

He was mostly trying to avoid looking at Nero, who was playing a game on the couch. The last time Dante glanced over, the kid had been lying there with one foot pulled up on the seat and the other leg bent so he could rest his ankle on the back of the couch. He was bobbing his foot up and down to whatever he was hearing on his headphones. Nero's eyes were focused intently on the screen as he bit his lip. His shirt was riding up, and his hair in a total mess.

No matter what he did, he was too damned fine for anyone's good.

Dante was getting seriously annoyed. Couldn't the bastard have the decency to do totally repulsive things in his presence? Nothing big. He wasn't asking for much. Some nose-picking. Ass-scratching. Huge, nasty burps would be appreciated.

No, instead he just insisted on hanging out, looking edible all the time, doing shit that made Dante want to drag him off to his room and show him what an oral fixation should really be used for.

What a shit-head.

Lady's footsteps were approaching the couch. Dante was already bracing himself for the awkward flirting. Not this again.

"Hey, I have a job for you two," she began immediately. She didn't even bother with a greeting - all business.

Dante blinked under his glossy paper cover. She was talking to Nero. . . right?

Nero sounded skeptical, too. "Huh? Us two? As in, me and Dante? I thought you were all about dragging me around lately."

The older hunter's eyebrow quirked up at Nero's marked lack of enthusiasm over Lady's sudden appearance. Usually, the kid wouldn't snipe at her - even when it was obvious he was not happy with her grabby hands.

"I'm honestly surprised you're not here to rope me into going on another dumb mission that I'm totally not needed for. Why the change? Not that I'm complaining. At all." he continued.

"Brat," Lady shot back, placid. "Whatever. I've gotten word that there's an old mining outpost that's becoming a breeding ground. It needs to be looked after sooner rather than later. The demons are already making incursions into two nearby towns. They want help, and the pot they've put together is pretty sweet. As for why you two need to take this, think about it. My weapons? Unstable, enclosed spaces? Yeah I'm good, but that's not the most optimal combination."

Dante heard her footfalls approach his desk before she removed the magazine from his face. "Hey, wake up."

"What," he muttered, eyes closed as though he'd actually been sleeping.

"I've got a two-man mission for you." Lady removed her sunglasses as Dante pulled himself into a more upright posture. "It's a ways out, so you'll probably want to get going soon - it's a breeding ground and it can't be left alone anymore." She pulled a sheaf of papers and a pen out of a pouch on her belt, unfolding the paper on the desk's scarred wooden surface.

"This is where the problem is - this mine got shut down ages ago when the market price of the ore dropped. The site was basically left alone. The thing is, it's kind of a perfect environment for demons to nest in. And they did. It's a few hours ride from here."

Lady traced the route from Capulet with the pen. "I don't know if you'd like to do this another way, but if you guys can set out this evening, you could make it here," she circled a marked town, "-and find a place to crash for the night. Then, if you're back on the road in the morning, you'd get to ground zero before noon. Strong daylight, easy pickings while they're all corralled in there - you know the drill."

Dante looked the map over. She was right; it was going to be a long ride. Sucked not to have a car for a trip that long, but those were the fuckin' breaks sometimes. "Sounds solid to me," he replied. "Fuck, it's like a perfect place for a demon nest - no people around to notice what's going on, access only through old company and logging roads that aren't kept up - and it's probably dark and gross as hell." He rubbed his chin. "Do we have any accurate idea what this looks like underground? How extensive are we talking? It's not gonna fall down on our heads, is it?"

Lady slid an aerial photo across the desk, along with a yellowed diagram that looked like it had been taken from a city hall archive. "Not from what I can tell. All we have to go on is what we can see from above, and this old plan of the mine layout. I don't know how it has held up over time though."

Dante squinted at it. "Ooh, looks like we've got two entrances." He grinned. "With me and the kid, two ways in means no way out for them."

Nero approached the desk to take a look too. Dante's gaze flicked up to where he stood with a look of concentration on his face. He poked at the mine plan with his bringer. "The main loop was probably better reinforced to begin with. We can sweep that 'cause that's where most would be." He made a face. "But dicking around with small-fry in the narrower shafts that might not hold up - well, that sounds like a chore with no benefits to me."

"Yeah, I'll bring my little boom-boom case. Pandora or Lucifer will bring the shit-house down behind us after we've taken out most of the trash. Whatever's left will either be dead or trapped. You think you'll be good to go in a couple of hours?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, sure." Nero looked at Dante with a grin. "Sounds like fun."

"All right! Let's get this done."

Nero paused and looked at the weapons cabinet curiously. "Hey," he began. "I was wondering. . . is it okay with you if I take Nevan out? I've kind of been wanting to give it a try. . ."

Dante sighed to himself. That damned kid - too fucking cute to say no to. "Yeah, sure."

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

The nice thing about a long ride on the motorcycle was that the noise made it a chore to talk - Dante wasn't even fully sure how to work the noise-cancelling mic and speaker set-ups in their helmets. The silence became natural rather than awkward.

The awful thing about a long ride was that Nero was plastered against his back the entire time.

It hadn't been so bad at first. After all, they were both dressed in layers; it felt more like having a really strange backpack on than anything else. However, as time wore on, Dante became more aware of the weight of Nero's arms around his waist. When he started fixating on that feeling, Dante felt the need to distract himself.

It was dark now, so there wasn't much to see. The only avenue of diversion available to Dante was thinking. Unfortunately, his head had been a mess lately, and the most pressing issue on his mind was. . . Nero. It just turned into this recursive loop of Nero, Nero, Nero.

He'd already noticed that thinking about this led him to weird places.

For instance, about eighty miles in, Dante had come to the conclusion that this entire deal - Nero, Lady, Dante - was just an enormous cluster-fuck. He hadn't even thought too much about how bad it had gotten; instead, he'd been fixated this entire time on somehow keeping things stable. The thing was that Lady didn't care about keeping things stable. If Dante was honest about it, things were already different - and not for the better, either.

Dante had been pretty determined about a few things, but as it turned out, they'd all been fucked up anyway.

He'd wanted to look out for the kid. Fat lot of good he'd been doing at that. It seemed like Nero was being constantly sexually harassed, and Dante had done jack shit about it because he didn't really think he had the right.

He'd wanted to keep their close friendship intact. Well that was also on its way out the window - he was acting weird and avoiding Nero, and the kid was obviously becoming aware of that. The younger man seemed subdued and tried to stay out of Dante's way these days.

He'd wanted to keep their good working relationship and living situation, too. But those were hardly the way they had been. He always felt like he had to leave the room when he and Nero were alone, for fear of embarrassing himself.

So, the more Dante thought about it. . . if everything was gonna be riding this southward trajectory and turning to shit, he might not actually have all that much to lose by making a move. The way he was starting to see it, maybe he ought to just go for it. Clear the air.

Either Nero would be interested in fooling around, or he wouldn't.

Dante's frowned under his helmet as he worked his way through possible outcomes.

If Nero was up for it - then what? Well, it would be a damn good time, that was for sure. Dante could get it out of his system. Maybe that would be a good thing, being friends with benefits, even for a little while. Dante could get his head on straight.

If Nero shut him down - then what? Could it really hurt all that much - especially if he made it clear that he wouldn't hold it against him if he wasn't interested? A rejection might quell this shit-storm in the making.

At the moment, the thought of Nero rejecting him made Dante feel like he'd been punched in the gut - but really, it would probably help. Maybe it would put a damper on this constant fantasizing, these frustrating circular thoughts that had no outlet. Maybe he'd be able to smother his lust if he only had an answer straight from Nero's mouth.

Dante could get it out of his system either way. They could eventually go back to how they'd been, comfortable together, without all this added bullshit that was tiring him out. He just. . . wanted to be done with this obsessing.

Of course, even if a 'no' would help settle things in his mind, Dante wasn't all that enthused about that scenario. With the way things had been going, though, he couldn't see an outcome where Nero would say anything but no.

He didn't think that any particular seductive skills he had would work on Nero, what with the whole 'but we're two guys' barrier and all that. In fact, Dante was now unsure of whether he'd actually ever gone after someone without getting at least some indication beforehand that they were interested. And he definitely hadn't ever crossed the friends/lovers line with anyone - those two categories had a steel gate between them in his mind, and it wasn't one he knew how to lift.

So, how would he even start? Could he get Nero thinking about him differently, comfortable enough with Dante's touch that he wouldn't notice things developing into something else. . . at least, not before it was already happening and he didn't want to stop it?

The odds were not on his side at all. Still, he wasn't going to just take his shot if he didn't think he had any chance of success, and he had always had shit luck at gambling.

Well, whatever. When the odds were bad, Dante cheated.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Dante felt a little bit guilty about it afterwards, when he pulled into the motel parking lot and Nero pretty much collapsed against his back in relief - but it had been the only thing he could think of to progress in his half-assed plan to get closer to Nero.

After another hour of hair-raising speeds and turns that were taken more sharply and lower to the ground than they needed to be, Dante was pretty sure he had two arm-shaped bruises forming across his torso. Hell, Dante was in control but he'd even managed to make himself anxious a couple of times. Nero must have been about ready to jump out of his skin at Dante's sudden need to drive like a fuckin' maniac.

Dante had kind of neglected to take the strength of Nero's demonic arm into account when he'd gotten going with his 'plan,' so he was pretty damned glad he had that healing ability tucked in his back pocket. He was pretty certain Nero had cracked a couple of his ribs back there. But that was just evidence that it had worked, Dante supposed.

Man. His seduction methodology was really sucking. He had no clue how he'd bagged so many chicks in the past. If Nero had been a hot girl in a club, Dante would have had a way better idea of how to proceed. But no. Instead, Nero was Nero - and Dante's shitty plan of attack necessitated that he torture them both with a highly painful motorcycle ride.

Anyway, that was just phase one. Phase two was also completely juvenile, but at least it would be different. Dante sighed. He really was bad at this.

Dante cut the engine and whipped his helmet off. Usually the two of them didn't bother with them, but for a ride that long, it was either wear 'em or have your face and hair coated in bug splatter and road dust.

Nero got off the bike as soon as he could, removed his helmet, and stared at the machine like he never wanted to get on again. "Holy shit, man!" he yelled. "What the hell was that about?"

"Just wanted to get where we were goin' faster, kid," Dante offered with a challenging grin. "What. Too much for ya?"

Nero just stood there, glaring at Dante through narrowed eyes. He rolled his shoulder and winced. "That was fuckin' ridiculous!" he snarled. "All right, give me the cash, I'll get a room key. Fuck. I need to stand under hot water for like, half an hour to get my back moving after that bullshit."

Dante tossed him the roll of bills and watched as he loped off to the front desk of the small motel. It was one of those squat things - two levels with outside entrances and the whole thing covered in a kind of off-beige stucco that had seen better days. The place was pretty dingy, but they weren't made of money. As long as it was reasonably clean and didn't cost an arm and a leg, they would be fine. Dante hadn't seen any needles or used rubbers around the parking lot and it seemed generally presentable. Not a hooker or junkie way-station or anything - just kind of run-down and not aging gracefully.

"Oh hey, kid! Remember to ask about a pizza place when you're in there!" Dante called after him.

Nero raised a hand in acknowledgement without turning around, and the bell jingled as he pushed the glass door of the front office open.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

"Fuuuuck," Nero grunted miserably as he sat down in one of the two uncomfortable chairs that flanked the small round table in their room's tiny sitting area.

As soon as they'd gotten the room key, Nero had shoved a pizzeria flyer into Dante's hands, tossed his gear in a pile on the chair next to the bed, and headed into the bathroom. He hadn't been kidding either. Dante had called for a couple of pizzas, and by the time they'd been delivered, Nero had been in the shower for a good forty minutes.

If there wasn't any hot water left, Dante was gonna be pissed.

He got up and rapped on the door, hearing the running water stop as he did. "Pizza's here," he called, before heading to the little table set up near the back of the room where the food was. He opened the box up. "Hmm, not bad," he muttered at his first bite. He winced as he chewed. "Damned olives - how does this always happen to me. . ."

Nero padded out. He'd thrown his road clothes back on, having rushed into the bathroom without a change of clothes. Dante was careful to stare in the opposite direction as he heard Nero unzip his duffle and start getting changed. Then, the younger man walked over to investigate the food situation, grabbing a slice from the open box and taking a thoughtful bite. Dante noticed he was still rolling his shoulders.

"I have no idea how you have such shitty luck when it comes to ordering pizza," Nero mumbled.

"Me neither, kid," Dante replied, picking some of them off the slice in his hand. "I have shitty luck when it comes to a lot of things, though. I've never once won at any kind of game of chance. Got into a financial mess and made a deal with Lady to help me out - and you see how that turned out. You know, I just shouldn't be allowed to deal with anything that involves luck or money; it just doesn't tend to end well for me."

"Yeah, I'll say," Nero scoffed. The two of them continued to eat in silence. It was dark out now, around ten in the evening. They would have a couple hours ride in the morning, get the job done, and head home in time for a late supper. That was the plan.

Nero reached for another slice of pizza and winced. "Seriously, Dante, what the hell was up with your driving today? I had to hang onto you so hard that entire time that my back and shoulders are now all fucked up. If you do that again tomorrow, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you. I can't move properly like this, everything's pulling and shit."

Dante finished off his slice and dusted his hands off with a wide smile. He wiggled his fingers around in front of Nero's face. "Well then, you're in luck kid! I've got magic fingers that can cure all your ailments."

Nero had been in the process of shoving more pizza in his mouth, and he had some trouble keeping it there as he cracked up. "Gwahahah! Oh my god. I bet you say that to all the girls, you lamer," he laughed, nearly doubling over as he tried not to choke on his food.

Dante put on his best hangdog expression. "Actually, that's totally not even as lame as what I get away with when it comes to the girls," he protested. "Gimme a break, kid!"

From the look on his face, Nero seemed to be pitying him. "Actually, that's pretty plausible. And somehow, it makes it even sadder," Nero replied with a little shake of his head.

Dante patted his full stomach. "Whatever kid. Anyway, I'll help you out a little. Just give me a while to get cleaned up, too."

Opening the second pizza box, Nero just shrugged. "Sure," he conceded. "I guess it could only help."

Dante bit his lip as he shut the bathroom door behind him.

_Phase two, initialize_.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

A little while later, Nero was stretched out on his stomach on the sheet of his twin bed, with Dante sitting next to him.

"Okay," Dante began brightly, as though he hadn't just had to take some vigorous precautions in the shower to avoid embarrassing incidents during the back-rub. "This place had some lotion in that little basket thing, so let's get started."

Nero just made some unintelligible sound of approval. It looked like he was about to fall asleep, actually. "Yeah sure, go for it. If I go to sleep like this I'll be locked up even worse tomorrow."

He turned his face towards Dante, eyes closed and brows a little bit drawn together. The kid really did look uncomfortable - shifting around with a little crease on his forehead. Suddenly, Dante's big and extremely lame plan to get Nero used to his touch, maybe get him to like it - or, on the flipside, just desensitize himself so he'd stop finding Nero so ridiculously hot - it all fell away.

All he wanted was to make Nero feel better.

He put a bit of the lotion on his palms and laid them on Nero's back, at about the level of his shoulder blades - just pressing firmly, and then moving his palms down and pressing firmly again. "Shit, you really are all locked up," Dante observed, feeling hard knots under his hands as they moved over the warm, smooth flesh.

He pressed his fingers up to the base of Nero's neck, rubbing his fingertips firmly against the knotted muscles. Nero yelped. "And there, too."

He started to work in earnest then. Digging his fingers into the tense pockets he found, feeling them gradually release under his fingers. He wasn't half-assing it either; there were a couple he really needed to put some weight into before they gave up and died. Nero grit his teeth when Dante found particularly sore spots. And it. . . it just felt good to touch Nero. To look at Nero without feeling like he was going to get caught doing something bad. To feel Nero breathing under his hands.

Dante had initially wanted to see if there was any interest there. However, the more he touched him, the more he became aware of all sorts of things. Nero's body - yes, it was hard, definitely a man's body - but it had a particular kind of appeal that Dante had never been aware of before.

The scent of Nero's skin was something he hadn't had time to think much about before, either. It was hard to describe. Salt, sweet, bitter at the same time. Burnt caramel, a hint of musk. It was a real shame that the complimentary lotion had that typical flowery drugstore lotion smell and was now covering it up.

Nero was so warm.

Dante moved his fingers up Nero's spine and pressed his fingertips into the muscles on his shoulders, his neck, and then up into his scalp.

"Mmmm," Nero hummed blissfully as Dante's fingers pressed there. "Fuck."

Dante hurriedly went back to the shoulder area, pressing his thumbs in and massaging firmly down Nero's spine, examining the warm skin that was reddening a little under the friction of his hands.

There were scars there. Somehow, Dante felt pride in the fact that none of them were new. There had been scrapes and bruises, sure, but nothing serious enough to leave a mark on Nero had happened since he came to Devil May Cry.

But some of those old ones - they were faint, but they made Dante wonder. The biggest was one across his ribs, following the curve of the bone. It looked like he'd been pierced right through, lung and all, and had the blade ripped out of him.

Just thinking about that happening to Nero pissed Dante off.

It wasn't until Nero shifted under his stilled hands that Dante realized he'd just been sitting there, frozen, with his hands resting on Nero's skin. He had no idea how long he'd been zoning out.

"Well, all done!" he announced with a light smack to Nero's back. He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs out. "Time to go to sleep."

Dante flicked the lamps off and paused where he sat on the edge of Nero's bed, still feeling that warmth under his palms.

"Hey Dante?" Nero was still lying on his stomach, but he turned towards him and Dante was struck by the expression on his face. His eyes were shadowed with concern in the darkness of the room.

"Yeah?"

"You've been weird lately."

Dante winced. "Oh."

Nero was quiet for a little while. "You know. . . if somethin's eating you, telling me might make you feel better. Just - do it. You got me to spill before and it did help. Maybe you think I'm just some brat. But I'm not, and we're. . . we're close, aren't we?"

Nero turned his face into his pillow, sounding embarrassed. "I don't like you being so - I mean, you seem unhappy lately. Did I do something to piss you off? I. . . can't I help you out?"

Dante felt overwhelmed by Nero's concern. He leaned forward despite himself, his forehead resting against Nero's warm shoulder, inhaling the scent of Nero's skin. For a moment, it felt like everything was okay again - like everything was better.

But it wasn't.

The desire he couldn't stop feeling needed to die.

Everything was tangled up in his head. He'd decided he'd risk it, but when it came down to it, he couldn't do shit. Then, he dropped his caution for god knew what reason. His lips were a breath away from Nero's soft skin - so close he was brushing the smooth flesh with his eyelashes when he blinked. But the barrier, the air in those millimeters between them. . . it felt solid, insurmountable.

It yawned before Dante like a field full of mines stretching out in every direction. He couldn't go forward. He couldn't go back.

More than anything, he was starting to feel numb. Exhaustion was overtaking him. Being so close to Nero's warmth made him. . . it just made him want to curl up next to him, wrap himself around him, surround himself in Nero's scent and refuse to move until morning.

It was dangerous. Dante was scared, and he didn't even know why - he didn't even know what he was trying to accomplish anymore.

"No, I don't think you can help me with this," he said quietly.

Nero stiffened slightly. "Oh." His chuckle was bitter. "I guess. . . sorry. Forget I said anything." He was moving away, then - out of Dante's grasp - pulling the sheet and blanket up over himself.

Dante watched for a moment. He couldn't bring himself to move.

"Dante. . ." Nero's voice was really quiet. Uncertain, but as though he'd gathered himself up to say the words. "If. . . if you wanted me to move out. . . you'd say so, right?"

Shit. Shit!

"Fuck. . . Nero, it's not like that! I'll. . . I'll tell you sometime. I want you around, okay?" Dante squeezed his eyes shut, trying to suppress his panic. "It's just. . . when it gets better, I'll tell you."

He ran an agitated hand through his hair before moving to the other side of their small room, sliding under the cool sheets of his bed.

For a while, Nero didn't say anything, and Dante thought he'd fallen asleep - so it startled him to hear the other man speak again. "Hey. Just so you know? Some things don't get any better until you make yourself talk about them."

Having no suitable response, Dante closed his eyes.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

* * *

**AN ****- **I had a point at which I wanted to end this chapter, but it would have been 18k+ words. This was a natural dropping off point and I took it.

Thanks so much to my reviewers for the motivation. You are keeping the wagon going and I appreciate it for I am but a weak fleshling. Dragon's Dogma (and now Atelier Meruru) have not been touched due to your efforts.

Good news: I have chunks of the next chapters done. Bad news: personal bullshit due to one parent with dementia and another fleeing the country. FML. Then I went online shopping and unwisely splurged on some Helmut Lang. I thought afterwards about how SSStylish I'll be as life swirls down the shitter and I go crazy. We like the gallows! We like the humour! Sorry, I will shut it now.

Ed - Sorry for my whining, I will now commence with being fun again. Love you guys. Let me know if you see typos. Comments and criticism are appreciated as usual.


	6. Maps

**Disclaimer**: I have nothing to do with Devil May Cry in any official capacity, and am writing this for fun.

**Rating**: M

**Pairing**: Dante x Nero

**Genre**: Romance/Humour

**Warnings**: Yaoi (guy on guy actionzz). Language, eventual sexytimes, possible OOC

**Summary**: Dante seems determined to keep flying around in stupid circles, and Lady's about ready to blast his ass out of the sky. Poor Nero gets to watch while it all crashes and burns. Dante x Nero.

* * *

**Holding Pattern**  
by Write-Error

.

**Chapter 5:  
Maps**

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

Made off, don't stray. My kind's your kind, I'll stay the same  
Pack up, don't stray. Oh say say say, I'll say say say  
Wait, they don't love you like I love you

_- Yeah Yeah Yeahs_

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Getting to the mine was more of a chore than anticipated. As with all company roads, it had only been maintained when the business was running. Since then, nature's disorder had reclaimed the rough route through the woods. Halfway in, Dante and Nero had agreed to leave the bike and proceed on foot as it was just pointless to try to find a path through for the vehicle.

Nero looked notably relieved, as though he'd been worried about what kind of ride he'd be in for off the road.

Any lingering strangeness from the night before had, to Dante's relief, faded away in the face of the work. He was still spooked by the idea that Nero had taken his odd behaviour as an indication that he wanted the younger man gone. He'd have to be careful, as that was really the last thing he wanted.

Dante wasn't sure exactly _what_ he wanted - just that he needed Nero to be there until he figured his shit out. No matter how awkward it got, no matter how anxious Dante became, he couldn't imagine a situation where he'd want Nero to leave DMC. Even the thought of that happening made something inside him squirm with unhappiness.

At the moment, the two hunters were fully occupied whacking their way through the underbrush. There were too many fallen trees and pieces of overgrowth blocking their way in as they struggled through, boots crunching in the leaves and twigs littering their path.

That didn't really bode well for the number of demons they were probably going to be encountering, if the site had been inactive for longer than they had heard. However, it was nice to be anticipating a huge, hairy brawl. The jobs they'd gotten lately hadn't been all that interesting, especially since Dante had been going off solo and leaving Nero to do the same. Neither of them tended to bite off too much without backup.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Dante grunted as they struggled through the greenery that strangled their path. He'd been using Rebellion to shove branches out of his way.

"Your sword's gonna get real dull real fast and we'll both be worn out before we even get to the main event? I mean we could probably jump all this shit or climb around in the woods, but. . ."

"Yeah, it's a fuckin' waste of energy when we don't know what kind of welcome wagon we'll be getting," Dante replied. "I was hoping we'd be fresh when we greeted the locals, but it's starting to look like that isn't gonna work out."

Nero looked at the overgrown path before them, a frown of consideration crossing his face. "Hey, hold up. Stay behind me for a second while I try something."

Dante fell back. As soon as he was clear, Nero's devil bringer projected its gigantic fist through the growth blocking their path. He succeeded in breaking through branches that blocked their way, and causing wood-chips to fly everywhere.

"Hey, pretty useful." Dante acknowledged. "I was gonna say that it would take a fucking age longer than we thought to even get to this little den that time forgot. But, hey. If you keep punchin' through like some kind of tree-hating prizefighter, we can probably stick to the plan."

Nero grinned and once again shot a huge glowing fist forward. A log that had fallen across the path during some previous storm went rolling forward, thoroughly flattening the local flora in its path. "Yeah, if I can keep at this it shouldn't take that long. Just follow behind me. Should be a bit faster that way, at least." Nero squinted into the distance, wiping perspiration off his upper lip with the back of his hand. "How much further do you figure? And what's this plan exactly?"

Dante followed Nero at the swift pace he'd set. He sniffed the air. "Hm, how far. Hard to say, but something less than half a mile off reeks like a motherfucker." Dante looked up into the sky, checking the angle of the light. They'd gotten an early start due to his inability to sleep well the night before, and it was probably around nine in the morning.

Dante was almost grateful for the spate of confusion and sexual frustration that had kept him tossing and turning, watching Nero and trying not to crawl into his bed. "As for a plan, I don't have much - you know how plans for me don't work out that great. Current one is get in, kill everything, destroy the nest, get out by early afternoon, collapse the exits, collect payment, and be home by nightfall. The thing is, Lady didn't have a whole tonne of information. We're already getting bogged down by details."

"Yeah," Nero observed in a wry voice. "That woman has this thing about never explaining enough to let you conclude that things are gonna turn out all fucked up. I have a feeling this is gonna be more of a pain than it sounded like," Nero groused. "I mean, it's a mine. Those can be pretty fuckin' big, and doing a reasonable sweep could take ages depending on the layout and how many demons are in there. I smell water nearby so it's likely there is some underground water sources feeding a nearby river or somethin' too. That might be a good thing though because then we wouldn't have to get in too deep."

Dante groaned. "Yeah. For all we know the place is fuckin' flooded. God. I hate that underwater crap. Fuckin' needle-gun." They picked up the pace, Nero sending greenery flying in every direction. Dante grinned. "You know, this might actually have been a nice walk in the woods - if it weren't for the job. Or the fact that you're totally destroying the woods." He shoved at Nero's shoulder and laughed. "You ever considered a job in demolitions? You're like a human-shaped wrecking ball."

Nero shuddered, causing Dante's brow to rise in curiosity as they hit another choke point and he used his bringer to wrench a huge mass of shrubbery out of the earth, tossing it into the distance, before forging on. "Ugh. . . let's just say a big old 'fuck no' to that one. All my environmental destruction is strictly pro bono."

A short distance away, Dante could see rock rising out beyond the tree line. "Hey, kid. Looks like we're here."

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Dante looked around, his eyes having adjusted to the dark some time ago. He flicked dirt and blood from his sword. In the distance, he felt a bright flare of power - Nero triggering - and froze for a moment until it faded into nothing again. Good.

Nero often triggered in brief flashes like that - taking advantage of the moments he was in between phases to negate a blow that was about to land on him and initiate an overwhelming counterattack. It reassured Dante somewhat when he could feel Nero lighting up in the distance, and they both had become accustomed to using their triggers that way as they worked together - either calling for support, or just to communicate where they were. Thanks to that, Dante had an idea of the distance between them, and where Nero was in relation to Dante's current position.

As they had expected, the mines were more extensive than they had been led to believe. They were going to be on cleanup for a good number of hours. Nero was one or two levels below Dante at the moment - hopefully taking out any aquatic fuckers that may be down there.

The majority of the mine was flooded. That left two levels above the water line - three, in some places. The levels were connected by narrow vertical shafts every so often. Dante had been working his way through the highest level. For the most part, it looked like this area had been taken over by assaults, as there were both adults and juveniles around. They weren't tough to take down, but the numbers and the narrow spaces made it dicey at times - which only made it more fun.

Nevertheless, in the interests of sticking to the timeline, Dante was trying not to play around too much. He'd been drawing them into the wider chambers. Ostensibly, these room-like areas were where mining had been done by hand - the walls were dotted and veined with vivid, turquoise-coloured ore, lending them an eerie beauty. In these areas, Dante had space to move. When he got tired of playing with his foes, he could quickly break their defenses down with charged shotgun blasts before finishing them with fierce slashes of his sword.

Nero had taken another route in - through the opening had been made to move ore from the rear of the mine for refinement and transport. There was a reason that Dante had sent Nero off to the far end of the mine. For one thing, Nero was better equipped to deal with submerged areas than Dante was.

For another, Dante had been able to smell the reek of the nest near the entrance - and he had absolutely wanted to be the one to do that part of the job.

Sure, that Order of his had been deluded as fuck. . . and Dante was real fuckin' glad Nero hadn't bought the shit they peddled. However, Nero had managed to learn the one valuable thing they had to teach. Nero. . . well, he was a knight. A noble kind of guy, and a fair fighter. That joy he took in every battle - it was just like Dante's. The joy of doing what they'd been built to do.

Still, Nero knew how to sacrifice for others. He was a straightforward type of man. His confrontations were direct. He talked and fought like a bad-ass - but deep down, Nero was pure. He wasn't a murderer, a killer, or a soldier.

Dante wasn't a knight. He was a protector, sure, but his years on earth had taught him that, to protect what you needed to protect, sometimes you had to do really shitty things. Sometimes you went with the lesser evil and did a dirty job, knowing there was no other way.

He was also experienced enough to know that, even if the alternative was worse, a person would still feel the soil sticking to them afterwards.

That was why Dante felt compelled to shield Nero from this part of their task. He knew it was pointless to try to protect him. Hell, maybe the kid had already done his share of dirty work - in Dante's experience, people like them were often the ones left to clean up the shit. He did have a habit of underestimating Nero, and it wasn't like he'd had an easy time of it in Fortuna. . .

However, even if he had, Dante would take care of it this time around. He'd do what he could to keep that untarnished core of Nero's shining for as long as he could.

He'd be the one to take care of the nest - to cut down the bloated mothers who couldn't fight back. He'd be the one to exterminate the tiny, mewling creatures that hadn't yet grown in their teeth - the ones who cried, reached out for comfort, just like humans did.

He'd do that so that Nero wouldn't have to, and he'd do it gladly.

He was reassured that the least pleasant part of this job would be over soon - the smell emanating from the dark reaches before him guaranteed it.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

When Dante circled back, having covered his half of the mine layout, Nero was in one of the mine's chamber areas nearby.

"Hey, eyes on me!" he shouted as the assault he'd been beating on tried to retreat. "I don't give a fuck what you're thinking about, but while we're doing this, you're lookin' at me!"

Dante rolled his eyes, hanging back. What was this dirty-ass taunting?

There was a group of three assaults, but Nero seemed to have the situation in hand. Dante leaned against the entrance to the room and watched the kid work.

"Oh come on now, let's go a little harder," Nero taunted as another assault lined itself up for attack, merely glancing off as Nero slammed it off-course with the armor on his bringer. "I'm barely feelin' this. What, you can't do any better?"

Nero paused and Nevan gave a ghastly shriek as she tuned up under his hands. An assault rushed him and he seized it, flinging it into the air before he followed, Nevan wailing and the air becoming thick with her bats and electricity.

One by one, Nero pulled the demons into the air, swinging and juggling them through the storm of death Nevan had created, before they fell back to the rocky ground. Nero followed, Nevan scything downwards through the crackling, ozone-scented air to embed her blades in their armored flesh with a sick squish.

"Phew, all done," Nero said with a nod as he shook Nevan clean and turned towards Dante. He looked at his bringer - its dull glow telling him there were no demons in the vicinity.

Nevan giggled. "What an amusing young man you are," she said in a voice full of enjoyment. "It has been a long time since I've had such a good time."

"You rock out pretty good yourself, Nev," Nero returned, absorbing the weapon back into his devil bringer. He looked up at Dante. "Looks like we're fresh out of shit-bags to beat on, huh?"

Dante swallowed. God. It was so hard to look at Nero when he was like this, breathing heavily and glowing with victory. He felt the urge to shove him to the ground and show him the most enjoyable way to cool off after getting his blood up.

Alongside that, though, Dante felt something warm and bright surging through him. Pride?

"Yeah, looks like we're about done here," he replied, trying to keep the heat out of his voice.

Suddenly, Nero's expression darkened. He stood there, arms crossed, his gaze narrowing on Dante.

"What?"

"So. I found a bunch of assaults. A bunch of freak-ass mutant fish things. A bunch of scorpion creatures. More assaults. A few moaning assholes carrying these huge fuckin' bombs. But guess what I didn't find?"

"Your ability to get to the point?" Dante replied, flippant.

"I didn't find the nest," Nero continued pointedly, completely ignoring Dante's lame attempt to misdirect.

"No worries kid, because I found it! Yep. Good old Dante saves the day. It's all taken care of, we can jet outta here anytime," Dante offered with a cheesy smile, jerking his thumb towards the passage out of the mine.

"Uh huh. That ain't workin' on me anymore," Nero snapped, clearly at the end of his patience. "Damn it Dante, you need to stop doing this."

"Callin' you 'kid'?" Dante replied quickly. He was off-balance. He didn't like it.

"No, I don't mean that - well, yeah, you can stop that anytime, but it's kinda a losing battle." Nero sighed. "What I'm talking about is this whole song and dance you got. You take all this shit on by yourself. You act like this happy dumbass, like nothing fuckin' fazes you. Maybe you think you're great at hiding it, but you're not, and your bad acting ain't gonna fly with me anymore." Nero stared hard at Dante with a determined expression on his face.

Fuck, Dante thought in surprise. Nero really had his number. "What's with the glare?" he asked, attempting to direct the conversation. "Job's done, nothing went wrong, heroes remain triumphant, we're getting paid and all that shit." Dante shrugged. "Look, the nest was at the other end, you were way over there-"

"Where you sent me, 'cause you could somehow fuckin' tell it was nowhere near the nest. I'm not stupid, Dante! You're always taking the worst of anything on yourself! You just eat it and swallow it down. It sits there, you start actin' all weird, you drive like you wanna die, you don't let anyone help you. You don't ever let it out - it's like fuckin' poison!"

Nero turned away, shoved his hands through his hair and kicked at the floor in frustration before rounding on Dante again. "With me, shit happens, I vent. Maybe I wreck things, I yell a lot, whatever - it gets dealt with. But you. . . Dante, you just keep it all to yourself like it's some awesome secret - but it's not awesome, it's totally fucking horrible!"

Nero grabbed Dante's shoulders and pushed him backwards, stepping forward to corner him against the rough stone wall. He was genuinely angry.

Somehow, though he was getting shoved around and yelled at, Dante felt a little happy. Maybe he really was a pervert.

However, Nero was freaking out because he was worried for him. That was amazing somehow. He was so used to no one calling him on his shit, so used to everyone thinking he was indestructible. It was almost a shock to learn that Nero knew him, saw through him to what was underneath all of his misdirection and bullshit.

He was also pretty sure Nero was fucked in the head or high on cave gas, but even so. . . he was really worried about Dante.

Somehow he couldn't help but think that Nero really was amazingly beautiful when he was mad, too.

Those blue eyes were burning into him again. "Dante, you can't just bury stuff and pretend it ain't there. That shit's gonna kill you! What, you think no one could ever understand you? Well guess what!" Nero threw his hands up. "I'm not gonna understand until you fuckin' talk to me!"

Nero closed his eyes, took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down before continuing. "I'm your fuckin' partner, aren't I? You think I didn't know it would be hard? That I didn't think about what it would be like killing everything in a fuckin' nursery? I'm not a goddamned unicorn, I don't need your martyr bullshit. Next time, we're doing that stuff together; you are not doing it alone anymore." His gaze was penetrating, and he wasn't going to give an inch.

Dante swallowed. Damn. "Uh. . ."

Nero shoved him. "Yeah, shut up. I'm not listening to you 'cause you're a fuckin' idiot. I'm just gonna have to make you share all this crap you're trying to drown yourself in. Goddamned shit-hoarder," he growled. "And you already said you weren't trying to get rid of me, so you don't get to take that back now that you know shit's changing around here."

"Nero. . ." Dante began.

Nero hesitated for a moment, and wrapped his arm around Dante's neck, dragging him in for a hug. "Thanks. Even if you're totally wrong in the head I get that you thought it was a good thing. But too fuckin' bad. It's the last time I'm letting you get away with this."

It was really hard - nearly impossible right then for Dante not to turn his face against Nero's cheek. So hard not to wrap his arms around him and just kiss him, for real - because, suddenly, the thing Dante wanted most in the entire world was to stay in this dank-ass mine and press Nero against that gleaming, turquoise wall. Just hold him, bury his face against his skin, and kiss him until the world ended.

Just when he thought he was going to give in, Nero released him and stepped back, exhaling. "Okay, I didn't hear an argument, so it seems like you've grown a brain. Fuck. Let's get out of this shitty cave and go home."

Yeah, home.

Dante stared after Nero for a moment as he made his way towards the exit.

_Home_.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

By the time they reached the shop, night had fallen and the two hunters were tired as hell. Extracting payment from the town leader had turned out to be an immense chore - the staff had seemed intent on sending them on a runaround from person to person.

Dante had run into that before. It turned out that the more money was involved, the less eager people were to give it up. They loved sending people on a wild goose chase, probably hoping they would give up and that whatever shit-head was holding the cash in trust would get to keep it.

It seemed that Nero had run into this kind of bullshit before, too. Luckily, people responded to his obviously demonic limb far more quickly than they ever did to Dante's threats and shit-talking. Not that Dante usually even bothered - he was kind of lazy about it and often it was easier to just sic Lady on someone looking to default. Why not just cut out the middle-man, was how he'd figured it.

After roughly an hour of running from this address to that address looking for so-and-so, Nero had finally gone back to the town hall and brought pressure to bear on the closest, meekest secretarial worker he could find. Only one flimsy chair was destroyed in the process.

Dante had been a bit worried that the man would piss himself, faced with Nero's ability to crush random pieces of furniture in a gigantic demonic hand. However, anything that got them back on the road to Capulet was fine by him - and apparently Nero really, really wanted a shower and a good night's sleep.

So, after another long ride - half of it through the rain - they made their weary way into the office. Nero removed his damp coat with a grimace and headed for the stairs, before turning on his heels and following Dante to his desk.

"Oh yeah, here, before I forget. . ." Nevan materialized in his devil bringer, and he handed the weapon back to Dante. "Nevan is really fucking cool. Thanks for lending her to me."

Dante figured Nero and Nevan would get along - she was crazy and flashy, and rewarded an inventive mind. "Sure."

"Oh Nero, you'll make me blush," the devil-arm chuckled flirtatiously as Dante carried her towards the storage cabinet. He rolled his eyes. Stupid fucking Nero, women loved that kid to death and it was really starting to get on Dante's nerves. "I hope you bring me out with you more often," she continued hopefully. "We could have so much fun."

"No," Dante replied curtly. His clothes were soaked, he wanted to get changed, he didn't have the patience for this crap.

"Well, what Dante says goes - you're his devil-arm after all. Looks like he's all possessive," Nero replied, sounding a bit confused.

"But Dante never takes me out anywhere nice anymore. I just stay in the cupboard. It's hard on a lady, being taken for granted like that. And it's boring in there! Even though I overhear the most interes-"

"Sorry babe, it's Dante's call," Nero interrupted.

"But I'm way more fun than Yamato!" she called, talking fast before Dante could close the door of the storage unit.

"Settle down, it's okay. Maybe we'll take you out sometimes, you know? Don't be sad," Nero soothed. Dante shut the door with a click, while Nero gave him a really funny look.

Dante sighed, shoving his wet hair off his face. "What the fuck is this, seriously. . ."

For some reason, Agni and Rudra saw fit to respond. "It seems that Nevan is unsatisfied. . ."

"Yes, it does, Brother. Perhaps she wishes to initiate a courtship with young Nero. . ."

"And you two, just shut up. Anytime now," Dante suggested through clenched teeth. Damn. Even though those two rarely spoke, each time they did, he was reminded of why he'd forbidden them from doing so. Goddamn devil-arms always had to pipe right up when it would get on his nerves the most.

"Just for that, I won't tell you what I know!" Nevan called petulantly, her voice muffled from within the cupboard.

Nero just rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs to clean up, as Dante picked the phone up to order some dinner.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

The next day, Dante awoke to the sound of music blasting. It was pretty late - definitely past noon - but the mission had worn him out in more ways than one, and he felt like he could still sleep for a couple of hours.

If Lady came around, he'd never hear the end of it, though. With that thought in mind, Dante dragged on a pair of warm-up pants and headed down the stairs to start a pot of coffee.

Before he even reached the bottom of the stairs, the fog of sleep had cleared from his mind. He recalled why he'd been heading straight to the kitchen without looking up in the past when the jukebox was playing.

Nero.

The music was loud enough to shake the room, and Nero was flinging himself around in wild abandon. He'd removed his shirt at some earlier point during his workout, and now all that creamy skin was shining with sweat, glowing with exertion as he rocked the house. He was tossing damp hair out of his eyes, completely oblivious to the fact that Dante had frozen on the steps above, and was slowly going insane watching him.

Dante was immediately, painfully hard. He couldn't believe he was still reacting so intensely just to the sight of Nero. His nostrils flared, picking up the faint smell of Nero's sweat over the distance between them. The room felt uncomfortably hot. He couldn't take this, couldn't stand it, but he couldn't help it - couldn't stop watching it like he was fucking hypnotized.

By the time he came back to himself, Dante was already back in his room, leaning against the closed door, his hand sliding down his stomach and under the waistband of his warm-up pants. His eyes closed, his mouth parted, and ragged breaths escaped him as he pulled at his aching erection, so painfully engorged and already growing slick under his grasping fingers.

Oh god. That picture in his mind.

Nero, completely abandoned under him like that.

Sweaty, thrashing against the sheets, singing his hot little heart out - but with Dante's name, over and over and over, as the only lyrics.

Nero's hands grasping at Dante's shoulders, clawing at his back, begging for more, loving it, needing it. That perfect ass milking and squeezing Dante's cock as he was thoroughly violated, his kiss-flushed mouth open and shouting in pleasure as Dante came.

Afterwards, Dante really couldn't even contemplate going downstairs and being around Nero. He couldn't imagine it, not without imagining himself losing control even further. He was near the end of his rope. God, it shouldn't even have been possible to want someone so much.

Something bad was gonna happen, he could feel it. He was starting to seriously doubt his capacity to hold himself back. He wasn't even sure he wanted to anymore. Nero, Nero, Nero.

Dante's earlier idea of slowly easing into some kind of closer friendship that involved lots of hot, sweaty, amazing fucking was a far cry from abruptly flinging himself on top of the other man and ripping all his clothes off.

He had to get out, do something about this. Something. . . anything. . . or he was sure he was about to ruin it all.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

When he heard Nero head to the shower, Dante was already dressed and ready to go. Nero tended to take his time in there, so Dante figured the way would be clear for him to get a bit of pre-drinking in. He'd just slam a couple of bottles - he was pretty sure he had some decent whiskey - and run right out to Love Planet, drink more there to keep it going.

Then maybe he could just. . . find some willing girl. The idea wasn't really appealing to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't do it. That didn't mean it wouldn't work. Just to take the edge off, just to distract him. He was so far gone now; anything would help at this point.

God. He was such a mess; all he could think of was Nero, all he wanted was Nero. This couldn't go on. He couldn't go on like this.

Halfway through his second bottle, Dante blinked his bleary eyes, hearing the shower shut off.

Oh. Right. Time to move.

He was on his way to Love Planet before the bathroom door opened.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

"You are so depressing right now."

Dante just took another sip of his whiskey without even acknowledging Fiona's presence. He stared at the pattern of the carpet on the floor, at the chip on the edge of the table.

"Hello? I'm talking to you."

"Yeah I got that, I kinda wish you'd stop," he replied honestly. Yeah, that whiskey was definitely good; he really didn't have much of mouth-filter going on right now. "I'm really not having a great day. Week. Month. Whatever." Dante laughed. "Fuck my life, seriously."

She leaned over the table and gave Dante an assessing stare, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "Did he dump you?"

Dante refilled his glass from the bottle on his table. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Could be the drinks, want some? It could only help our ability to converse with each other. I recommend this shit as a social lubricant, and also as a very effective household cleaner."

Fiona went to the bar, grabbed a glass, and poured herself a stiff one. "Don't mind if I do."

"Good, 'cause drinking alone is kind of sad, right? Yeah. Or maybe not. Hey. I don't really like you," Dante recalled. "Hm. Oh well, pull up a chair, person I don't really like. Because you're better than drinking alone."

"Tough shit, babe, looks like I'm all you got right now," she replied, taking a seat and knocking half her drink back. She scrunched her face up, eyes tearing. "Shit. I'm ruining my makeup. Oh wow, what is that?"

Dante turned the bottle so the label faced her. "Can you read?" he asked slowly.

She examined the label, and then looked at Dante. "This is a serious question. Do you even have a liver?"

"You're not flirting with me," Dante observed, before lifting his glass for another sip.

Fiona just looked at him with disbelief all over her face. "Well, no. Duh."

"Right, I'm thinking you're interfering with my objective. Or something. See, I came here to pull a chick. I had this. . . plan. That was a while ago. Like two hours. Or something. But you're not flirting with me. Not that I really want you to because I really don't like you much, but it's kind of like - what do I even talk about with you now?"

Fiona rolled her eyes. "Watch out, you're going to hurt my feelings. Well, how about we talk about why you're such a sad sack of shit suddenly? Because I can tell you right now, your days as Pole #4 are over. I don't think any of us girls are going to be going for you with these waves of depression rolling off. And you're saying he didn't dump you? Damn."

Dante blinked. Was he really that drunk? "Wait. Pole #4?"

Fiona gestured towards the three stages. "Pole #1," she indicated the centre stage with her finger. "Pole #2," she pointed to the one on the left. "Pole #3," she gestured towards the one on the right. "Pole #4," she finished, pointing at Dante's lap.

He burst out laughing. "Oh my fucking god, you have got to be shitting me," he managed between guffaws.

Fiona leaned back in her chair and took a more cautious sip of her drink. "Nope. Someone even put a sign-up sheet in the dressing room once, just like we have for scheduling shifts on the other stages," she said with a little smile. "But, yeah. As I'm saying, that sheet's probably gonna have to be retired. You are done, Dante. Didn't even have to stick a fork in you to tell that much, what with the chest-beating protective act and all that."

"What the fuck?" Dante demanded, slamming his hand on the table and fumbling at the bottle to refill his glass. "What the fuck, I've still got it, I ain't retired. Not that I'm not kind of grossed out by the sheet thing, but why the hell am I suddenly fuckin' persona non grata around here?" he grumbled. He knocked the glass back and refilled it again in a huff. "Can't believe this shit, everyone saying I'm fuckin' old all the time."

The woman in front of him just gave him a look of disbelief. "You are kidding me. You seriously don't know."

"If someone says I gave them the clap or something, there is no fucking way that's even possible," Dante added. "Just so you know. I mean, wait. You do know. I can't get that shit, and besides that, I always glove the love. I'm the picture of sexual health."

"Oh, ew. You're the picture of something, all right." Fiona glared, disgusted. Then, she poured the last remaining finger of whiskey into her glass, watching Dante thoughtfully. The empty bottle clinked as it hit the table.

He scowled. God, already done another bottle? This was gonna cost a goddamned fortune.

"So. . . how's Nero?" she asked with a sly smile. "I've been waiting for him to come around here again, but he hasn't even dropped by onc-"

Dante slammed his fist on the table, glaring at her with everything he had even though the room was moving slightly.

Everyone. . . fuckin' everyone wanted that kid. It was driving him insane.

"You don't even think of going near him, you hear me?" he growled. "There's no fuckin' way I'm ever letting you touch him. He's too. . . he's so. . ." he trailed off, rubbing his hand over his face. "God, what the fuck is this. I can't take it. I can't take it."

He closed his eyes then, just a moment, and of course Nero was there. Nero. God. He'd come here to do something, do someone else and still, all he could think about was Nero. . .

When he opened his eyes, Fiona was looking at him with pity in her eyes. "Here," she said, placing a full bottle in front of him. "This one's on me."

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Dante wasn't sure how much time had passed between that bottle and this one. Or how many bottles had passed between that bottle and this.

He wasn't even sure he could still feel his feet.

He kicked experimentally. "Oh, hi, foot," he greeted blearily. "There you are. Nice to see ya. Glad you're okay."

Fiona had just come back from somewhere - the phone at the bar.

"I called someone to bring you home. Dante, you're in a real bad state. I don't even recognize you."

"Yeah," he muttered. "I don't fuckin' recognize me either. Can't blame ya."

He closed his eyes, and of course Nero was there.

Then, he opened his eyes, and Nero was still there - looking more pissed and worried than the imaginary version had.

"Shit, Dante," he said with a despairing shake of his head. "I thought you'd gone out on a job, but you're here, and. . . and what the fuck are you doing to yourself?"

"Fuck if I know," Dante answered, still not really sure if this was really happening or not. He closed his eyes as Nero slid a hand under his arm, lifting him to his feet.

Burnt caramel, definitely the real thing. "Nero," he whispered.

"We're goin' home. Thanks, Fiona," Nero said over his shoulder as he pulled Dante towards the door.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

The walk back to Devil May Cry went by in complete silence.

Dante was too far gone to notice much - just that they were moving, and he didn't feel that great. But at the same time, he could smell Nero. Nero was touching him. So warm.

That felt kind of great.

But Nero looked sad, and he'd gone completely quiet. That was not great. It was probably Dante's fault, everything was going to be ruined, and it was going to be his fault. Nothing good stayed good, either Dante would ruin it, or people would die. It was just the way life went, Dante thought bitterly.

And then they were back in the office. Lady was sitting on the desk, her legs crossed at the ankles, watching in silence as the two of them came through the door.

"You're here," Dante observed unhappily. "Shit, why are you always here. . . Why can't you just. . ."

"Dante, just please, be quiet," Nero asked as he helped him up the stairs. "Come on, just sleep it off okay? I really. . . god, Dante. This is fuckin' terrible. How did it get so bad?"

Yeah, Nero was sad, it was probably Dante's doing.

Then Dante was in his bed. Nero had apparently helped him undress, and thank god the alcohol killed his ability to get a boner because it was pretty much the only thing he was grateful for at this point.

Nero stood next to him, watching him. "Want me to get you some water or somethin'?" He asked quietly.

"Nngghh," Dante replied. "No."

Nero bit his lip, brushed Dante's hair back from his forehead. "I really wish you'd just tell me what's wrong. I hate seeing you like this. . . it really gets me down, man."

Nero's bringer hesitantly alighted on Dante's forehead. The rough skin at the back of his fingers, brushing his hair back again, and then the velvety softness of his palm, the pads of his fingertips. An impossible warmth seemed to radiate from Nero's hand, seeping into Dante.

He turned into it like a thirsting plant would towards the sun. "Nero. . ."

Dante's entire body seemed to hum in response to the touch - a low, trembling vibration of longing. It was all he could do not to grab that hand, press his lips to it, beg. . . beg for something he couldn't even identify.

"Dante, you gotta talk to me. You can't keep doing this." He sounded so worried, so tired, and Dante was tired too. He couldn't talk, not now.

"'Night, Dante," Nero sighed before pulling away.

Exhausted. Still drunk. Dante was a mess, and he knew it, but he didn't even know how it got so far out of control. This was eating him alive.

The door closed behind Nero, and Dante could feel the alcohol being burned out of his blood, felt himself returning to sobriety, degree by painful degree.

"Fuck. What the fuck am I doing?" he asked himself in a whisper. He closed his eyes, and there was Nero.

And then, the crack formed. A fissure, growing, branching, proliferating through the carefully maintained wall in Dante's mind. He was swimming in it now, drowning in adrenaline and fear and everything he'd been shoving down.

The dam was breaking, and what had been held back came welling out in a rush, overwhelming.

Nero. Just Nero. Fighting, blushing, dancing, yelling. Strong, loud, awkward. Angry, sweet, irritating, funny.

Those images were drenched in desire - Dante's desire for more. It washed over him, warm and slow at first, and then nearly knocked him flat in its intensity.

Nero, fighting beside him. Nero in his bed, his to touch and taste and hold every night, curled up with him every morning. Nero, next to him on the couch, laughing at something stupid.

A soft look in his eyes, a smile that would be for Dante, and only Dante.

Fuck it. Dante wanted it, all of Nero, all for himself.

So much for not shitting up his backyard with sex and expectations. So much for playing it safe and keeping things stable.

This was the kind of shit that drove people crazy. It could make a man crumble and eat his pride. It could get a devil to stare all of hell in the face and say, "Come at me, assholes."

It would never go away, no matter how Dante tried to bury it.

It was serious - no, it was completely fucking terrifying.

Dante was in love.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

It wasn't like the world suddenly changed.

It was more like Dante had finally noticed the world had already changed. All the things that had been making no sense to him suddenly all came together to make him feel like the biggest, blindest, most stubborn idiot on the face of the planet.

He did have reservations about it. After all, he'd pretty much been a lone wolf since he'd been marked for death by every bump in the night between DMC and the lake of fire. He just had to take some comfort in the fact that the one his heart had basically torn itself out of his chest to give itself to. . . well, at least Nero was tough enough to fight off whatever hell threw at them.

Dante supposed that, in some ways, things couldn't have worked out any fucking better.

It had been two days since he'd realized what he had been feeling all along. Since then, Nero had been at him to talk, but he couldn't. Not quite yet.

Dante'd been taking a while to get used to it himself. He needed to collect a bit of courage before he could let it out, but he did have to tell Nero. He knew he would. He wouldn't be able to hang onto it for long. Every time Dante saw Nero, he just wanted to hold him, touch him, be close to him.

Luckily for Dante, Lady had gone out of town the day before for an overnight mission. He'd had Nero to himself for the first time in ages. They had done a couple of jobs, just normal stuff. But somehow, every moment with Nero made him feel happy - warm, and whole, the way he could barely remember feeling.

Nero sometimes looked at him, soft and open, like he was trying to figure something out but couldn't.

"Dante, you have to fuckin' talk to me."

"Yeah, I'm gonna tell you. I'm gonna tell you, I want to tell you. Just. . . give me time, Nero."

Dante figured that things were okay as they were. He could take it slow. He'd never loved someone like this before, and he didn't have a great track record of people he loved sticking around, or staying alive.

So he was getting his nerve up. Stalling. Just one day more. Just one.

Of course, something was going to have to kick him in the ass to get him going.

That something was going to be Lady and Nero disappearing together for two whole fucking days.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

That day began like normal.

Dante was still in bed. Nero was stomping around in his own room getting ready for whatever. The older man swam slowly towards consciousness when he heard a strange trill through the wall, and then Nero's muffled voice.

Oh. So that was what the kid's phone sounded like.

He dozed off again for a little while, and the next thing he knew, Nero was shouting something barely intelligible through his bedroom door. He sounded really fucking agitated - but at the same time, he sounded like he was eating his fucking shirt. Dante hadn't been able to make out a single word besides 'Lady,' 'mission,' and 'later.'

By the time Dante's brain put the words together and woke him up properly, Nero had already gone.

Dante forced himself to calm down.

Okay, so he was a fucking jealous idiot. He'd started coming to terms with that, but it didn't mean he should just go nuts over any old thing. This was nothing big. Just a mission, just like always. Nero would be home that night. Nothing would have happened with Lady because she got on the kid's nerves.

Everything would be fine, just like always. No harm, no foul.

That evening, Dante sat at his desk, absently flipping through magazines while keeping an eye on the door. Hours passed. Nero did not walk through it.

By three in the morning, Dante was so worried he couldn't even think. To make shit even worse, he realized that he still hadn't managed to get Nero's number. Goddamn it, he was in love with the guy, and he couldn't even get his fucking phone number! Dante wanted to shoot himself in the head over that one.

He blinked, and then started rifling through his top drawer, pulling it out completely in his haste, pens and shreds of paper flying everywhere. There. He had Lady's number.

He kicked the desk, and by the time the phone receiver dropped into his hand, he was already dialing her cell. It rang twice and went to voicemail. The very sound of Lady's voice-mail greeting made Dante so pissed off that it was thirty seconds before he realized he'd just left a message composed entirely of yelled expletives and threats of torture.

He was worried, he was jealous, and even more than that, he was scared.

Dante loved Nero living with him, loved having Nero come home to him. Somehow, though, he had failed to get that he was too fucking slow at everything. Slow to realize, slow to act. He was a fucking retard in the most literal sense.

If he didn't do something, didn't get a move on, Nero would fall for someone. Hell, even if Dante did say something, Nero might fall for someone. He'd end up with that nameless person - who, incidentally, Dante already violently hated.

He'd move out to be with them, spend his life with them. . . and he'd give that person all the things Dante wanted for himself.

Or even worse - and this thought was really the one clawing at Dante through the distractions of jealousy and anger - something could happen to Nero.

Things happened to people. In their line of work, they both had a pretty good idea of how they'd eventually die. They didn't know when or by what, but those were just details - there was really no escaping it.

If that was how it was going to be, if he was going to lose Nero, Dante was already way too far gone to recover from it. He'd probably go through life faking it like he used to do - only, this time, his heart would be slowly bleeding out of him.

Dante was a survivor. He knew that he could live through virtually anything and keep on going - maybe he could even slap that practiced smile on his face and look like nothing was fucking wrong - but that idea had never seemed bleaker than it did now.

So the question, after all, wasn't whether he'd lose Nero. No matter which route he took, he would lose Nero - either now, or at some point in the future, something was going to happen to take him away. The question was whether Dante would ever have him in the first place. Loss was fucking guaranteed - it was the happiness part before it that was a complete gamble.

Dante had never once won at gambling, but that was what everything was going to boil down to. Now, he was being forced to acknowledge that there was no alternative.

He had to do it. As soon as Nero came through that door - oh god Lady wasn't answering her phone no matter how many times he called and Nero had sounded so worried before. Maybe they both. . .

No. Dante slammed that door shut. Nero would be fine. As soon as he came back, Dante was going to lay it all on the line and hope Nero would not, by some miracle, run away screaming.

The next day dawned, and Dante was determined.

The hours passed, and it was evening again.

He'd spent the day trying to keep himself busy, but had been unwilling to go anywhere in case the phone rang or Nero came back.

Dante had read half of a book, before realizing it was really fucking boring and he didn't even care what happened. He'd tried to revive Dongface and continue his adventures, but he couldn't remember where they'd been trying to go. . . and he kept choking up every time he read 'Dante heals Nero, 157 HP' on the screen. He'd ordered a pizza, but had barely managed to finish the second slice. The TV was on, but he couldn't be fucked to say what he'd been staring at for the past hour.

It was eleven at night, and Nero still hadn't come home. Dante was wearing a path into the wooden floor. Lady's phone was still off. Or broken. Or slowly dissolving in some demon's belly.

In another hour, Dante resolved he would give up on this waiting bullshit, go over to Lady and Trish's house, and start breaking down the doors. That thought calmed him down enough so he could sit down on the couch. Just a little bit longer.

Nero walked in at quarter to twelve.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Dante must have looked really rough and sleep deprived, because Nero looked at him extremely cautiously before approaching. "Hey," he greeted simply, putting his stuff down and tossing his coat over the stairs. He looked at Dante again, suspicion and worry on his face. "You look. . . have you been drinking again?"

"No," Dante answered. Nero was fine - completely unscathed. And there it was, suddenly, on top of the overwhelming relief.

Rage.

Dante couldn't help but wonder what Nero had been doing with Lady for so long, and why she wasn't answering her fucking phone. He could barely keep a lid on it.

Nero came over and sat down on the couch, looking relieved. "Are you finally ready to talk to me? Because this has just been going on way too long. I. . . I wanna be there for you, you can tell me anything."

At that, Dante snapped. He grabbed Nero by the shoulders, pinned him against the back of the couch.

"What the fuck!" Nero yelped, anxious at first and then shoving back at Dante.

Dante already knew this was really not the way to go about this, but he just couldn't help it. There was a roaring in his ears and his blood just wouldn't calm down.

"What the fuck have you been doing with her?" he demanded. "Were you. . . I can smell her fucking soap on you! I hate it. I can't take this anymore, I feel like shit, I just can't do this. I thought if we just stayed close it could be enough, but I can't just watch without even trying to stop it from happeni-"

"What?" Nero interrupted. A look of realization crossed his face. "Wait. Oh my god. Dante, I had no idea! Shit, you have a thing for Lady? I swear, I didn't know! No wonder you've been so pissed at me!" He stared at Dante, utterly horrified - and then he was scrambling to explain.

"Look, she had that mission for a couple of days, right? Well it turned out it wasn't done, shit followed her home, these crazy shadow things fucking lurking everywhere but refusing to come out. We had to ambush 'em, it was really bad and it took forever. . ." he trailed off.

Dante's hands were shaking on Nero's shoulders. Nero covered one of them with his, and looked Dante squarely in the eye. "Look. Me and Lady," he paused, seeming to debate something with himself. "I can't fully explain without clearing that with her, but it's not what you're thinking. But seriously, as your friend and stuff, I have to beg you to rethink this. I mean you already know she's nuts, but there's also the fact that she-"

Dante just couldn't take it anymore. "Goddamn it, Nero! Are you totally fucking stupid? You've got it totally wrong." He forced himself to breathe deeply, tried to calm down. Before he knew it, his forehead was resting on Nero's shoulder.

Nero's scent seemed to have a soothing effect on him, even if the person himself seemed really agitated and confused about why he was being insulted.

It was the moment of truth. Dante swallowed. Nero said he and Lady weren't involved, and he wouldn't lie. Fuck. Dante needed to get a handle on himself, but it just figured that things would work out this way. "Fuck, I finally fall in love with someone and I actually managed to find a guy who's even slower at this shit than I am. This fuckin' sucks," he muttered.

". . . Are. . . Dante, wait. What are you saying. What. . ." Dante lifted his head and froze at the shell-shocked expression on Nero's face.

"Oh. Shit." Dante realized belatedly. "I actually said that, didn't I? I didn't want to say it like that. Shit, pretend you didn't hear that."

"Pretend I didn't hear? What the fuck, Dante!" Nero yelled, shoving at his chest, panicky. "What the. . . Are you messing with me or what? This is just. . . this is a whole other level of mind-fuck. . ."

Dante sighed and ran a hand over his face before firmly meeting Nero's gaze. The other man looked extremely freaked out - he was pale as a sheet, his eyes bright and manic. This felt like facing a damned firing squad, but at the same time, it was a relief to finally get it out. Nero already looked like he was about to have a stroke; how much worse could it really get after this point?

Time to just go for it. "Are you kidding me? I couldn't be more serious. Nero, I'm always serious when it comes to you." Dante inhaled deeply, gripping Nero's shoulders, looking steadily into his eyes. "I love you."

Nero's mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. Then, he turned bright red, looking completely surprised and overwhelmed. He sagged back against the couch. "H-holy shit."

"Yeah, I know," Dante agreed. "I think I swore a lot more when I figured it out."

A silence fell while Nero tried to absorb the information.

Nero looked up. "Wait, you're into guys?"

Dante sighed. "I dunno. It's not even like. . . Well, since you came back from Fortuna, I just haven't been interested in anyone but you."

Nero bit his lip. "Holy shit. You - well, Dante, you're really important to me. You know you're kind of. . . the most important person to me. But I would never have thought that you. . ." He tilted his head slightly with a look of extreme confusion on his face.

Well, Dante thought to himself. It was time to roll the fuckin' dice and let them fall where they would. "What about you? And you don't have to sugarcoat it. I'm a guy. I know you care about me, but I need to know." He swallowed. "Nero - do you think you could look at me like that?"

Nero bit his lip, and contemplated Dante for a moment. He looked so skittish that Dante suddenly had the irrational fear that he'd just bolt.

Dante held his breath, only releasing it when Nero nodded, blushing and looking extremely embarrassed. "Well I, uh, I'm not a hundred-percent straight. So, yeah, sometimes I thought. . . " He looked away for a second before seeming to gather his nerve and reply. "Dante, I. . . well, I was kind of avoiding looking at you like that because you're too close to me, you know? Even if I thought. . . well, you know I had problems when I couldn't tell if I was projecting shit on people, and you were always into-"

He was interrupted when Dante grabbed him into a crushing hug.

"Thank god I'm so fine," Dante sighed, pressing his forehead to Nero's and smiling, stroking his back with his fingers. It was such a relief to touch him, finally, without feeling like he needed to hide something. "There were times I was all, 'Fate, why did you torment me by making me so damned attractive? 'Cause I've got this animal magnetism that's irresistible to all - hot babes, devils with huge vengeance issues, you name it.' But hey, right here and now, that shit's finally paying off!"

Nero looked at Dante for a moment, made a sputtering sound and started spasming in laughter. "I got vengeance issues?"

Dante smiled. He felt like he'd never stop smiling. "I'm just sayin' it's been a trend so far. Hard to argue with that many examples. It's okay, you live here, so revenge would be really convenient. 'Son of Sparda, get out of bed. I'm gonna make sure that your afternoon totally sucks.' See? Pretty easy arrangement, right? Stick around; I'll set up a schedule."

"You're such an idiot," Nero chuckled. His pretty blue eyes were crinkling at the corners.

All in all, Nero seemed happy enough to be right there in Dante's arms.

Dante felt like a metric tonne of shit had just been lifted off him. Whew. Now that the biggest obstacle was out of the way, Dante would just have to lay it on Nero until he loved him back. . . or until he just gave in out of sheer fatigue. Dante wasn't gonna be too picky at this point.

"So, Nero," he began, running his hands up and down Nero's arms. "Is this. . . cool then? I mean, want to give it a shot?"

Still grinning, Nero paused for a second, and then nodded. "Hey, why the fuck not?" His response was flippant, but he did nothing to hide the sweet look in his eyes. He rubbed at his nose.

And then finally, finally, finally. . . Dante was kissing Nero.

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

* * *

**AN** - Oh my god oh my god oh my god. Dante, why you so fuckin' slow? Sorry guys, I was having a really tough time with this one. Hope you are relieved as I am that I finally got this dude off his ass!

Love to folks who left reviews. I will respond to all. You made this chapter happen, I was all "fucckkkk this mine schematic sucks." But, literally every time I read a review, I sat my ass down to write. I was rationing them. And EEEEUUGGHH Pelleas!

It's kinda rough right now - I will likely be re-editing the whole story once I'm done. Two(?) more chapters, guys, and an epilogue if the plan holds (and it has never held so far). I already had a terrible idea for a sequel. Terrible, and from Nero's POV. After HP is done I'll probably need months of recovery before even thinking of multi-chapter anything; my energy levels don't hold up very well.

Thanks for all comments, criticisms and corrections.

-Volpa


	7. 4 AM

**Disclaimer**: I have nothing to do with Devil May Cry in any official capacity, and am writing this for fun. God. What was I thinking - this isn't fun at all!

**Rating**: (oh so very) M

**Pairing**: Dante x Nero

**Genre**: Romance/Humour

**Warnings**: Yaoi (this means two guys getting down and dirty). Language, sexytimes, possible OOC

**Summary**: Dante seems determined to keep flying around in stupid circles, and Lady's about ready to blast his ass out of the sky. Poor Nero gets to watch while it all crashes and burns. Dante x Nero.

* * *

**Holding Pattern**  
by Write-Error

.

**Chapter 6:  
4 AM**

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

Sunday morning, watching the city sleep  
Dreams are shining, finally they're within reach  
There's a way, there's a way I know

. . .

I know that someday we will surely find it

_- Kaskade_

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

Dante felt like he was in a dream.

His perception of time was completely fucked. His brain could only handle a limited number of things at a time, and it was already running at full capacity. Circuits had overloaded. Wires had come loose, and they were now throwing showers of sparks.

Dante's mind was completely fuckin' fried.

There was just too much awesome stuff going on to keep track of. He wanted to absorb it, remember it, file it all away for safekeeping. . . but there was too much, and there was no way he could. It was like after weeks of being stuck in a desert - chasing mirages, slowly running dry - he'd somehow found his way back to civilization.

And now, he was attempting to drink his fill from a fire-hose - getting so much of what he needed, all at once.

First, there was the warm weight of Nero across Dante's thighs as he sat on the couch. Then, the feeling of Nero's arms around his neck - one smooth and human, the other like hardened leather and soft suede - radiating enough heat to make perspiration rise on Dante's skin. Then, there was the sensation of Nero's firm, smooth lips on his own, and Nero's warm, wet tongue rubbing sweetly against Dante's.

He had no idea how long they'd been like this, on the couch, with Nero straddling Dante's lap. They were wrapped up in each other. Just kissing.

Dante had never known his mouth could be so sensitive, or that he could enjoy something so simple this much. He was so physically and mentally exhausted that he didn't even fully register the urgency of his desire. Yes, his body was hot for Nero - he was about to tear a hole through his jeans - but, somehow, that feeling just wasn't connecting to the rest of him.

He didn't feel compelled to go any further. Rather, he was content with this, for now. No, not even content. Thrilled. This was Nero, close against him. Their mouths were meeting, warm and soft. Somehow, it felt like a battery inside Dante that had been completely drained was slowly being recharged.

Pleasure washed over him in slow waves. For the first time, Dante felt like the intensity of his feelings for Nero wasn't just punishing him, tearing at him, raking him over coals. Wanting Nero - loving Nero - well, it was fucking amazing. It was the best thing ever. He'd never known anything could feel this good.

To top it all off, Dante was now satisfactorily convinced that Nero had not, in fact, been making out with anyone else. Since they'd started, Nero had gone from clumsy and uncertain to sweet and teachable. . . and he was now rounding the corner towards hot and bossy. His fingers were tugging in Dante's hair, moving him where he wanted. His thighs tightened on Dante's hips, pressing close, eyelashes shadowing his cheeks when he pulled back to breathe.

Just having Nero against him, arms around him, breathing with him - feeling the heat of his mouth, his soft lips, his mouth tasting like the orange soda he must've been drinking at some point before coming home - this was so completely different from the kisses Dante had given and received before now. Those had always felt a little like required stops on the road to fucking - not something he'd ever wanted to gorge himself on.

But right now, Dante just wanted more, more, more. It looked like everything this time around was going to be completely different. . . and it would all be new to Nero, too.

That thought made Dante want to take it slow. He looked forward to taking each layer, each shred of Nero's innocence and thoroughly, lovingly defiling it a bit at a time.

"Can't believe I'm so lucky - my very own personal virgin," Dante murmured, licking his way into Nero's mouth for another taste before pulling back and enjoying the hazy look in the other man's deep blue eyes. He smiled, rubbing his thumbs over Nero's hip-bones and pressing his mouth against his throat. "It's great. I love it. Thank god Fortuna's full of mouth-breathing dumbasses, or I'd have never got this chance. I've gotta savor this."

Nero turned red, but raised an eyebrow at him. "God, Dante," he muttered - to the older man's delight, that voice was low and hoarse. "That's embarrassing as hell. You really do talk like a dirty old man."

"You just keep crackin' wise like that. I'll show you, punk." Dante sucked a mark into the base of the younger man's neck and turned, pushing Nero down onto his back on the couch. He paused to admire the mark - a little pink circle that said 'Dante was here.' His fingers slid up under the hem of Nero's shirt, pressing up over his stomach, before Dante buried his face again against Nero's throat. His skin felt like heaven - warm and smooth over the firm muscle beneath.

Dante pressed closer, feeling Nero hard against his stomach. "Baby," he whispered, rubbing up against him. "You really want me. Thank fucking god."

Nero just rolled his eyes, and pulled Dante down for another kiss. He hooked one leg around Dante's. His tongue pressed into Dante's mouth and stroked against his palate before he pulled back with a little sigh.

Dante's fingers curled against Nero's waist, the older man absorbed in just looking at him. Flushed, breathing hard, looking up at Dante with his warm blue gaze. Damn. Beautiful. . . so gorgeous that Dante really had to rest his eyes for a sec.

He wrapped his arms firmly around the younger man, burying his face against his neck. Toasty. . .

"-nte. Dante!"

"Ow!" Dante jerked suddenly, his eyes flickering open. Nero was staring at him with equal parts annoyance and concern. His fist was still raised from bopping Dante on the head. "What is it?" he murmured, hugging Nero tighter. Wait. Why was the collar of Nero's shirt wet?

"Dante, you seriously need to go to sleep," Nero observed. He combed Dante's hair back out of his face with his fingers. "C'mon. Time for you to go to bed."

Dante shook his head, eyes closed. "No."

Nero sighed. "Just fuckin' go to bed already! You know, it's kind of a downer when the first person I'm making out with is falling asleep on-"

"No, I'm fine! Totally awake!" Dante insisted. He kissed Nero's stubborn chin. "You know how long I've been waiting around for you? You can't get away from me that easily."

"Were you. . . Dante, be honest with me." Nero was carefully examining his expression. "Were you really acting all weird because of. . . this? I mean, you've been acting strange. For a long-ass time, I thought you were getting ready to kick me out."

Dante tangled his hand in Nero's hair then and pulled into a fierce kiss. Nero tasted so good. When he pulled away, he stared down into his startled eyes, hoping he could communicate how unhappy he was with that idea. "No way in hell am I kicking you out or lettin' you go anywhere. I've been. . . I didn't know how to deal with this. You've been driving me crazy. There's no way I'm goin' to sleep now when I've finally figured my shit out and got you where I want you." He scowled. "Deal with it."

"Wait. . ." Nero planted his hands on his shoulders and held him at a distance when he went in for another kiss.

Dante felt a bit like a kid getting his favourite thing taken away from him. Playing keep-away like that wasn't cool at all. "C'mon, babe, don't be like that. . ."

Nero made a frustrated little sound in his throat. "Damn it! You passed out and were just droolin' on my shoulder. Dante, you look so wrecked."

Dante frowned. Okay, falling asleep while trying to make time with Nero was. . . actually really embarrassing. He did feel sorry, but. . . no. No. There was no way he was letting go right now. That would be way worse. Letting Nero slip away and possibly regain his sanity and decide to call the whole thing off was a bad idea on the level of 'hey a big red button in this mysterious submarine - let's press this and see what it does'.

"That. . . that's 'cause you're tasty!" Dante argued lamely. "I can't help it, baby's just so delicious."

Nero made a face. "Yeah. I'm tasty," he shot back, sarcastic. "That's definitely why you made this weird snorting sound, your muscles went totally slack, you face-planted into my neck, and then your mouth started leaking." Nero sat back and crossed his arms. "Either making it with me is really fuckin' boring, or you need to go to sleep. Either way, this buffet is now closed." Then, he dealt a little smack to Dante's shoulder. "And please tell me you're not gonna be callin' me 'baby' all the time - I thought 'kid' was bad enough, but now we're actually starting to roll back stages of development."

Dante scowled. He really was tired, and the last thing he wanted to do was give Nero the chance to add 'falls asleep while getting it on' to some list of points relating to his old man status. Especially now. It was kind of important that Nero think he was incredibly sexy, and not in danger of slipping and breaking a hip if the opportunity to fuck in the shower were to arise.

But still. . .

He wrapped his arms firmly around Nero and locked his hands together, stubborn. "Nero," he coaxed. "I don't wanna let go of you. I just. . . I haven't slept in two days, I was freaking out that entire time, and I'm kind of out of it. I'm so relieved it's like an adrenaline crash. I barely know what's going on right now."

Dante was not used to anything this good happening to him. He was a bit suspicious that he might actually be out cold on the couch, collapsed out of exhaustion, and that this was all some kind of hallucination - some kind of cruel wish-fulfillment dream that he'd come up with on his own. He did hope that if he were to fantasize a situation where he told Nero how he felt, he wouldn't have fucked it up so bad. However, the fact that it had somehow worked out despite his serious ineptitude made him think it really was a figment of his imagination.

The jury was still out on the authenticity of recent events. He brushed their lips together again. "Just. . . I'm kind of worried this won't be real when I wake up."

Nero bit Dante's lip. Hard.

"Hey!" Dante gave Nero a his best 'how could you do this to me?' look as he licked at the blood beading up from the broken skin. "God, you're mean! What the hell have I gotten myself into with you? This is fuckin' abusive!"

"See? I'm real, I'm mean, and I'm getting kind of pissed off," Nero grumbled, taking Dante's face in his hands and turning him from side to side with a concerned look. "Just go to sleep already. You got these eyebags going on, you look really tired. Seriously. You look like death right now, and you need sleep, that's for damned sure."

"Only if you stay with me," Dante counter-offered.

Nero's eyes narrowed. He smooshed Dante's cheeks in.

Dante seized on the opportunity to make fish-lips. Nero snickered, released his face, and curled his arm around Dante's neck. "Okay. But if you start touchin' on me and then pass out, my self-esteem will be dead forever, and you'll never be gettin' any of this. Just so you know."

"I really, really want some of this. I swear I won't start nothin' I can't finish," Dante yawned, hugging Nero close. "God, I really just wanna sleep. I really am about to pass out. Too much stress. You put me through the wringer. I don't know how I'm gonna deal with you; I'm already fallin' apart here."

"Jeez, I kind of noticed," Nero said softly. He kissed Dante on the cheek, and then pried himself loose from the arms locked around his waist. "Get up, get up." He wormed his way out from under Dante and, getting to his feet, grabbed Dante's hand to tug him off the couch. "C'mon."

.

-o-o-O-o-o-

.

The next time Dante came back to consciousness, he was absolutely relaxed - utterly warm and secure in the cave of his covers. He just lay there for a little while in the dark, eyes still closed.

It was all coming back to him. He was lying on his side, one arm slung around Nero's waist as the other man lay on his back.

Nero.

Dante slowly opened his eyes, just to confirm. Yes, Nero was there. He'd stripped down to his undershirt, which was riding up, and boxer-briefs, which were slipping down. His hair was sticking out all over the place, and his mouth was hanging open. The covers hadn't been able to keep up with him, and the parts that Dante hadn't managed to steal were now pretty much only covering his calves.

He had no idea how on earth Nero been managing in his own room's narrow twin bed without falling out - the guy was always shifting and rolling around, and seemed to be trying to take up as much space as possible.

Luckily, he didn't seem to be cold at all. He'd flung his devil bringer out and it was overhanging the edge of the bed, casting a blue glow in the dark of the room. As he slept, he made this noise that was almost a snore, but not quite. It was more like this faint rattling sound as he breathed.

Dante knew he ought to find that noise aggravating, but somehow he just didn't.

He propped himself up on his elbow and stared at Nero's slack face, his arm tightening, pulling him closer against him. Dante sighed. This was probably creepy. He didn't really care. Finally, Nero was here, in Dante's bed. Goddamn it, if he didn't want to be perved on, he'd have to stop being so fucking gorgeous all the time.

They'd probably only been sleeping for an hour or so, but Dante was feeling relatively okay now. More importantly, now that the exhaustion passed, Dante was really fucking horny. He was already half hard just from being close to Nero, smelling him, looking at him. Dante'd stripped off too, wearing just his boxers to bed. That had mostly been because he'd been a bit worried that he'd just start humping Nero in his sleep or something.

Now he just couldn't wait to start touching him again.

Dante raised his head and peered at his bedside table before falling back onto his pillow. The clock read 2:47am. It would probably be wrong to wake Nero up right now; it sounded like his mission had been really tiring.

His mission with Lady.

Dante scowled at that and pressed himself closer against Nero's side, arm tightening possessively as he buried his nose in his hair. No matter what the kid said about that, it still bugged Dante that he couldn't come out and just tell him what the hell was going on.

Nero shifted then, his hip pressing and rubbing up against Dante's now fully awakened erection. Dante exhaled slowly, resisting the strong urge to pull his boxers down and rub his cock against that warm, bare skin. Fuck.

Then, Nero turned in his arms, pressing close. His bringer came to rest on Dante's back.

Dante squeezed his eyes shut. This was okay. He could endure this. Just being close to Nero was wonderful, he wouldn't do anything. . .

Then, Nero nestled his face against the crook of Dante's shoulder, inhaled deeply, and let out a low, happy rumbling sound that sounded almost like a purr. He pulled himself as close as he could and then hitched his thigh over Dante's hip - which just happened to tug the waistband of the older man's boxers down.

The length of Dante's erection had found its escape route and slipped free. He hissed out a breath as the leaking head of his cock met Nero's smooth stomach, sliding wetly over the skin, slipping through the soft line of hair on Nero's belly.

The rumble in Nero's throat deepened. Dante's dick jumped.

Fuck. That was it.

Dante rolled Nero onto his back and settled between his spread thighs. He did a quick check for morning breath - good, still okay - before burying his fingers in Nero's hair and kissing the hell out of him.

His tongue slid forcefully into Nero's warm, slack mouth, teeth nibbling at his soft lower lip. His hips rocked firmly, stroking his entire length against Nero's belly, and god. The friction felt delicious.

"Wha. . . Dante. . ." he gasped, waking up.

"Yeah, baby?" Dante murmured - as though Nero wasn't suddenly waking up to about six feet three inches of highly aroused male coming on to him with the heat of a thousand suns. He pushed Nero's arms up before slowly sliding his hands under the ribbed cotton of Nero's shirt. Then, he was wrenching it up and over Nero's head. He tossed it over the side of the bed, never to get in his way again.

Much better - there was so much perfect skin for Dante to touch now that the evil shirt was gone.

He buried his mouth against Nero's shoulder, teeth sinking into the firm flesh as his hips ground his erection down against the thin cotton of Nero's underwear, saying a very loud hello to Nero's growing hardness.

"Dante. . ." Nero's voice was rough with sleep, surprise and arousal. His head was rolling back against the pillow as his hands stroked up Dante's back and landed in his hair. "Ah. . ."

"That's it, Nero," Dante growled as his fingers moved up over Nero's ribcage, fingers teasing at his tightening nipples. He pressed another kiss to Nero's neck, his tongue lapping the salt off his skin. "Mmm. Baby. I love how you say my name when I'm touchin' you."

"Fuck. . . Dante!" Nero said, now sounding more awake. . . and maybe even a little annoyed.

Well, that wouldn't do. Dante had to do something about that.

He laved his tongue over Nero's nipple and ran the palm of his hand lovingly over Nero's trapped erection. So hot. It throbbed under Dante's hand. "Mmm," he murmured, feeling how thick and long the other man was. "Nice."

Nero's hips jerked under him, pressing more fully into the heat of Dante's hand, trying to get him to move. "Oh my god. . ."

Dante sucked at the nipple, circling it with the tip of his tongue as he rubbed Nero with the flat of his palm, just teasing. He felt a slight dampness develop there, causing the thin, soft cotton to cling more closely to the hard flesh.

Nero breathed heavily now. "D-dante. . . please. . ."

Dante stopped, pulled back on his haunches, and enjoyed the sight of Nero panting under him for a moment. Even in the dark Dante could see how flushed he was. So gorgeous, all turned on from Dante's attentions. His gaze slid down Dante's chest and stomach before landing on his exposed cock and widening. Nero swallowed visibly.

"Nero, I'll be so good to you," Dante murmured, his palms stroking the soft skin of Nero's thighs. "All you need to do is settle things with Lady and come to me. You've gotta tell me properly that you're gonna be mine."

At that, Nero tore his gaze away from Dante's truly intimidating erection, looking a bit confused. He raised himself up on his elbows. "Huh? Dante, I told you-"

Dante lowered his body against Nero's again and bit at the side of his neck in reproof. "You basically told me not to fuckin' worry. That was it. You didn't tell me shit, even though you obviously have some kind of thing happening," Dante said roughly into his ear, squeezing him lightly through his boxer-briefs, his thumb stroking firmly up the shaft. "'Don't worry' ain't enough, Nero."

Nero turned his head to the side and moaned. "Dante!"

The older man released his hold. He pressed his erection against Nero's through the fabric of his underwear and ground down again, smiling wickedly when he heard a little whimper escape Nero's throat.

"You know what I wanna do to you?" he asked. He pulled Nero's knees up, rubbing his palms over the skin of his legs, and then over the firm flesh of his buttocks.

Dante pressed his lips close to Nero's ear, letting him hear all the want he'd been suppressing. It coloured and saturated his voice, making it sound low and raw. "Nero, I wanna open you up. Sink my fingers in you. Slick you up, get you ready for me."

Nero bit his lip, taking an uneven breath. "D-dante. . ."

Dante swallowed at his breathless, needy tone, and continued. "I'll spend a lot of time on you, 'cause I don't want to hurt you with this," he murmured as he ground down again, letting Nero feel how big he was. "But Nero, I'm gonna give it to you. I'm gonna work my way inside you when I have you begging for it, baby. I'm gonna blow your mind. You have no idea. . . I've been saving it all up for you. It's gonna be sooo good. . ."

Nero's eyes were dark. He pulled Dante down into a kiss, sucking roughly at his tongue as he tugged hard on Dante's hair. "You talk pretty fuckin' big," he growled in challenge.

Dante pulled back, breathing heavily, staring into Nero's face, running a finger tenderly over his flushed cheek. "It's not just talk, Nero. . . but you're not getting any of this until you sort that shit out and say you're gonna be mine. I've been loving you like crazy, I need more from you than this. 'Cause why would you buy this cow if you can have the milk for free?"

Nero blinked. Then, he dragged Dante back down into a kiss, rocking up into him with lazy rotations of his hips. When he pulled back for air, he made a choking sound, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh my god. D-dante. Are you. . . seriously?" He chuckled, totally helpless. "Are you really withholding sex? You, of all people?" He laughed harder. "And. . . haha! Did you just call yourself a cow?"

Dante had to be firm about this or he was gonna get walked all over - he could just feel it. He'd said it out to give himself words to stick to, because without them, he really didn't think he'd be able to hold himself back. Dante wrapped an arm around Nero's shaking shoulders, rubbing his nose against his cheek.

"Well. . . yeah. I guess that's what I'm doing." He smiled against Nero's skin. "Baby, you ain't getting any of my beef until you brand me good and proper."

Nero clutched at Dante's shoulders, shuddering in mirth. "P-please stop talking!"

Dante grinned. "And I'm tellin' you, this shit's one-hundred-percent grade A. You ain't never goin' back once you've had it."

"Oh god! Fuck, shut up!" Nero gasped, hand pressing his stomach as he shook.

"Mmm." Dante sucked Nero's trembling lower lip into his mouth, eyes closing. He licked his way into Nero's mouth again, tasting the other man's soft moan as he traced the sensitive flesh of his lips with the tip of his tongue.

"Nero." He kissed him again, whispering against his lips. "Even if we won't be unlocking any trophies tonight, we're still definitely gonna play the demo." He pulled back, enjoying the look of want in Nero's smiling eyes as he rocked forward against his belly. He was so, so hard. His eyes fell closed. If Nero didn't start touching him soon, he was probably just gonna lose it. "Baby, please. . . grab my stick."

"Dante," Nero gasped, shaking with laughter and whacking Dante repeatedly on the shoulders with his fists. "Where do you come up with this shit? It's so stupid. My stomach hurts! P-please don't make me laugh anymore."

"Got it. No more talking, no more laughing." Dante sucked at the spot under Nero's ear. "Oh, Nero," he said quietly, in a voice rasping with desire.

He slid his hands over all the soft warm skin that was tempting him, slid lower between Nero's thighs so he could taste it. Dante ran the flat of his tongue over Nero's chest, tasting him, sucking marks into his white flesh, lapping at his nipples. His hands gripped Nero's hips as he gorged himself on the salty sweet flavour under his tongue, pulling up slightly to stare down at what he was going to lay claim to.

Nero, under him, was arching into Dante's touch, looking all flushed and happy. His cock looked like it was trying to fight its way out of his underwear, leaking a dark wet spot into the front of the grey cotton. Dante exhaled softly.

Oh, wow. Life truly was good.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he murmured, before pressing soft kisses over Nero's flat stomach, raking his teeth over it and feeling the muscles jump, the hot pressure of Nero's dick pulsing against his collarbone. He kissed his way down the pale, silvery line of hair, slipped his tongue briefly under the waistband of the boxer briefs before deciding to leave them for a bit longer.

Then, Dante lowered his head, running his parted lips over the straining length through the fabric.

"Fuck," Nero gasped. His bringer was in Dante's hair now, claws curling against his scalp.

Dante sucked at the side of Nero's cock through the soft material, letting his saliva dampen it further as he breathed in Nero's hot, musky scent. "Baby," he whispered against the straining flesh. His own dick was leaking in sympathy, and he pressed it against the cool cotton of the sheet beneath him. "Ask me for it."

"Dante," Nero husked, staring down. "Suck it, suck my cock. Please, I. . . I wanna feel your mouth."

Dante hooked his fingers into the elastic of the boxer-briefs, dragging them down. Nero's erection sprang out, nearly smacking Dante in the face. He threw the underwear to the side and took Nero's hips in his hands, his wet tongue finally meeting bare, overheated skin as he licked from Nero's balls to the very tip in one slow movement.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, Dante!" Nero gasped, fingers twitching against his scalp. "Dante-"

"Yeah, lemme hear you," Dante muttered roughly, before swirling his tongue around the straining head. He sucked it into his mouth briefly before letting it go with a pop and admiring it. Nero's cock was long and thick, with a gentle upward curve - and a perfect, pale pink all over, blushing a deep rose at the head. Not as big as Dante's, but it was plenty big.

He swallowed, watching a bead of pre-come well up from the slit and roll slowly down the shaft. "Your cock is beautiful, baby. How the hell can a guy have junk this pretty? Fuck, it's ridiculous," he groaned, before lapping that drop up.

"Stop fuckin' admiring it and suck it already!" Nero groaned. His hands clenched in Dante's hair as he tried to move him, but Dante wasn't having any of that.

He licked his lips, took Nero's shaft in his hand, and then slowly took him in. He carefully rubbed his tongue over the hard flesh, getting him good and wet so he could slide the circle of his lips down further.

This wasn't something Dante had ever imagined he would do before Nero. . . but damn. It was a huge turn-on, feeling how hard his lover was, all because of him. Tasting him - salt and musk and Nero. Sucking at him and feeling the response in the jerk of his trapped hips, the hands pulling in his hair.

Dante closed his eyes and moaned, pulling back and sinking down again. He twisted his tongue around the hard flesh that opened his mouth. The head of Nero's cock stroked over his palate and Dante curled his fingers over what he wasn't taking, stroking it, hearing Nero make incoherent sounds as he leaked more pre-come into Dante's mouth.

Dante took his time for a while, really enjoying Nero's tormented cries and curses when he changed rhythm - but soon, the other man's hips were jerking hard, trying to get in deeper as Nero repeated his name breathlessly. Dante started moving in earnest then, sliding Nero as far as he could take, bobbing on the slick, wet flesh, swallowing in rhythm so Nero could feel the constriction around the head of his dick.

Nero had released Dante's head and was clutching at the sheets beside him. "Oh, fuck, Dante, Dante, fuck, take it, suck it, it's so fucking good oh my god oh my god, fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna. . ."

Dante just sucked harder, tried to take more. He could feel Nero swelling in his mouth, the head pulsing deliciously against his soft palate. He extended his tongue as far as he could, raised himself up to try and get a better angle, and slid Nero as far down as he could take him, swallowing around the hot, thick flesh.

"Fuck!" Nero nearly shouted, his voice low and raw. "Dante, Dante. . ."

He slid one hand down, pressing his thumb over the spot between Nero's tightened balls and his clenching anus, and felt him let go.

Dante pinned Nero down with a forearm across his belly, and started gulping at the hot fluid that was filling his mouth, slipping down his throat.

Oh god. This was Nero. This was the taste of Nero, sliding over his tongue in warm waves, and Dante was already learning to love it. He swallowed, still suckling, hearing the other man curse, twitching on his tongue as he drew every drop from him. Dante's dick rubbed wetly against the mattress - he was leaking so much now that he wondered if he was gonna come just from sucking Nero off.

Nero spurted one more time in Dante's mouth and then his erection started to subside. Dante gentled, backing off and taking the rest from him. He heard Nero give a little whimper as his tongue slid over his wet shaft, before finally releasing him and letting the soft length rest along his thigh.

Fuck. Dante panted, squeezed his eyes shut, pressed his cheek against Nero's stomach, and tried not to lose it on the sheets. He dragged his boxers down, kicking them off.

Then, Nero was yanking Dante back up, kissing him. Dante took the lead almost immediately, past any notion of control. Soon it was hot, wet and desperate, Dante's tongue thoroughly fucking Nero's soft mouth. Nero's hand slid down Dante's chest, finally wrapping around Dante's engorged cock, squeezing and stroking the dripping, twitching flesh.

Dante made a helpless whining sound as he pushed into the touch. "Nero. . ."

"Fuck," Nero groaned against Dante's lips. "You're so fucking big it's stupid - you got any lube in here?" Dante could only stare hungrily with half-lidded eyes as Nero gave him a slow smile of promise. "I got something you're gonna like, but you'll need to be wetter for this," he murmured before kissing Dante again.

Dante, past the point of being able to speak, motioned towards the bedside table. Nero yanked the drawer until it was tilting precariously and about to fall out, and grabbed the bottle when he spotted it. He flipped the top up with a click. Dante rolled to lie beside Nero, pressed his mouth to the skin of his back, squeezing his tormented cock in an attempt to gain a bit of control.

He watched as Nero squirted a good amount of lube into the palm of his devil bringer and opened and closed his hand a few times, warming it up. Then, he turned back to Dante and was kissing him again. He raked his teeth over Dante's jaw, sucked at his neck, and then took Dante's throbbing, needy erection into his demonic hand with no preamble.

Dante gasped as he was squeezed, lost in the sensation of Nero finally touching him.

Nero kissed him harder, and that hot, wet hand started to move, tugging firmly over Dante's erection.

"Oh fuck, oh god, you feel. . . oh Nero. . ." Nero's palm and fingers - usually the texture of soft suede - now slid over Dante's skin, warm, rough, tender, wet - like a hot tongue wrapping around Dante's dick. He squeezed his eyes shut, thrust his cock into that pleasuring hand, panting so hard that he felt like he was gonna hyperventilate. "Nero, fuck, I'm not gonna be able to take much of this, it's too fuckin' good. . ."

Still stroking, Nero sucked kisses down Dante's chest, his hand twisting in slippery strokes up over the head of Dante's cock. It was nearly purple now, so swollen with blood and need that Dante thought he'd die if he didn't come soon. "Baby, Nero, please-"

Nero licked his way down Dante's stomach, and then his tongue was sliding over the head of Dante's cock - slipping around in the steady flow of pre-come, probing teasingly into the slit. His bringer continued its stroking and squeezing while he held Dante down with his human hand. God, Nero's touch on Dante's desperate arousal - so tight, messy, sloppy, and god, the heat of it. Dante wanted it to go on forever, but he knew he wouldn't be able to take it for long. Nero kept lazily rubbing his wet, pink lips and tongue over and around the the fat head each time it surged out of his demonic fist. Just the sight of Nero's sweet mouth on his cock was enough to make Dante crazy, but it felt fucking spectacular.

"Gonna come," Dante said then, barely able to form words, fighting to keep still.

Nero raised his head to look up at him. Then, he took the drenched, gleaming purple head of Dante's erection between his lips, relaxing his jaw and rubbing the slick circle of his mouth down over the flared crown. He sucked at it mercilessly, worked it with his tongue as his eyes closed and his blushing cheeks hollowed. And all the while, he tugged his bringer quickly over Dante's shaft, like he was milking Dante into his mouth.

Dante let out a hoarse cry at the sight and the sensation. Nero's reddened lips stretched over him, his hot mouth sucking his cock-head like it was a delicious piece of candy that he was trying to get the filling out of. Dante couldn't help but give it up. He was coming, coming so hard he was seeing spots.

"Nero. . ." Dante panted helplessly, unable to tear his eyes away.

Nero took the first forceful spurt, coaxing it out with his tongue, and then pulled off, jerking Dante in firm, steady strokes. Dante moaned as Nero closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and took a face-full of thick white come, flicking his tongue out to catch it as it streaked over his lips and his pink cheeks.

The inhuman heat of his devil bringer continued to stroke smoothly up over the entirety of Dante's erection as it twitched, releasing what looked like the biggest load ever all over Nero's face, parted lips, neck, and chest. The last jets of semen rolled down the shaft, spilling over the fingers of Nero's glowing hand as he gently tugged the last out of Dante.

Then, Nero lowered his head again. Dante watched in fascination as he licked the head lovingly, kissed it, and then drew it back into his mouth and took the last remaining drops. Dante hissed a breath in between his teeth as Nero let go then, running his pretty pink tongue down the over-sensitized shaft, and cleaning him with gentle licks as he softened.

It took a while for Dante to get his head working right again.

Fuck, he realized in horror. A possessive heat rushed through his veins for the first time ever. Nero was too fucking hot. He could never be permitted to leave the house again. He was a fucking wet dream come to life, and he couldn't be allowed to use that shit on anyone but Dante. Where the fuck had he learned to drive a man crazy like that? Dante was gonna go there and beat the shit out of anyone who had even looked at him funny.

Dante could barely move, but at the memory of that insanely erotic display, he felt his dick twitch again like it wanted another go. He dragged Nero away from where he was still gently licking Dante's overly sensitive and slightly chafed cock and kissed him, wet and sloppy. They were a complete fucking mess, but Dante really didn't give a shit at this point. "Fuck," he moaned against Nero's mouth. "Fuck, babe, you're too fucking sexy. So beautiful. I love you so much, Nero."

Nero stared at him with a soft look in his eyes. He then curled one arm around Dante's neck as he was mercilessly nuzzled. "Mmm, Dante. Ow, you're scratchy," he mumbled. He kissed Dante again, and then pulled away slightly as he tried to clean his face off with the sheet. "And you're getting come all over you too. Here," he squinted at Dante, swiping at his cheek.

By that point, Dante felt somewhat revived. He blinked slowly at Nero's face before leaning in and kissing him some more, moaning as Nero instantly opened to him, letting him taste himself. God. It had only been a little while ago when Nero had been kissing him like he didn't know how. Now his mouth was like a fuckin' playground, and he tasted like Dante's come. Dante shivered with pleasure and hauled Nero closer to him, before looking around for something to clean him off with.

Dante rummaged around off the side of the bed, and came up with a box of tissues. He grabbed a few and stroked Nero's hair lovingly before starting to wipe him off.

Nero just lay there, obviously a bit sleepy, and then a little smirk appeared on his face. "Well. You sure talked big earlier about buying cows, but from the feel of things, I got plenty of milk for free." Nero grinned, and then started cracking up. "C-can I even afford you? You must be the star of the dairy. Man. How can one person produce this much jizz. . ."

Nero's fit of laughter made Dante roll his eyes. "Yeah like you had nothing to do with it? 'Cause the way I see it, it's mostly your fault!" Dante scowled as Nero started laughing so hard that the mattress began to jiggle. "Okay, you little brat, that's it. I take the cow thing back and I'm switching to 'put a ring on it.'"

"What k-kind of ring on w-what exactly?" Nero guffawed.

Dante rolled his eyes again and let out a long-suffering sigh. "That's right, you're not allowed to have any of this until you strap a cock-ring on me. That's totally what I was meaning to say." He threw his hands up in exaggerated disgust. "God. What could be at the centre of this anti-romantic field? Oh look, it's Nero!" he concluded with mock-surprise. "You're where romance goes to die, kid. I can't work my magic under these conditions!"

Nero grinned and cuddled against Dante's side when he settled back down on the pillow. "Calling me a kid is creepy, not romantic, so I'm not the only problem here. Which reminds me, I'm way too young to be putting rings on anything. Gotta travel the world. Sow some wild oats before settling down. You know how it is," he joked.

Dante turned onto his side and stared at Nero, combing his silvery hair away from his sweet blue eyes. "You're settled down as of now. Are you kidding me? We've been like the opposite of friends with benefits - I've been loving you without any damned benefits for way too fucking long." He wrapped his arms securely around Nero and pecked him on the mouth. "You've been withholding my benefits. I'm pretty sure that shit's illegal."

"So. . . you'll report me to the labour board?" Nero shot back, but his gaze was warm, and his arms were curling around Dante's neck.

Dante stared at Nero, completely serious for once.

He had to nip this shit in the bud, right fucking now. "None of this wild oats bullshit. You just ask me for whatever you think you'd be getting somewhere else, and I'll show you how much better you'll have it right here. You and Lady were flirting around and I wanted to throw her out a window; you don't want to see what would happen if you took someone else to bed with you. I'd go insane."

Nero grumbled. "Still doesn't seem fair to me to skip my slutty phase and settle down with you." He turned his head into the pillow for a moment. "The shit Fiona told me - I mean at the time I didn't think much of it, but now it's kinda personally relevant to me-" he cut himself off.

Dante grimaced. If he'd only known how badly his past behaviour was going to come back to bite him in the ass. . .

He was leaning down to try to kiss away Nero's unmoving frown when he caught it. "Whoa! Whoa, hold up. Why are you even talking to Fiona?"

Nero shrugged. "Remember, she called the office line a while ago? You were totally shit-faced at Love Planet and it took her an hour of trying before I got back and could answer the phone. Anyway, when I went to get you. . . and by the way, you can never do that again! I was fuckin' worried, you dumb piece of shit! I never wanna see you like that again!"

"Won't be a problem, now I got you," Dante mumbled.

Nero exhaled. "Anyway, she asked for my cell in case you went in acting all fucked up again. But really, she only calls to chat, and it's hard to get rid of her - I mean, she just keeps leavin' messages!" He pulled a face. "She's. . . I'm getting this weird feeling that she. . . likes me, or somethin'. I mean, it's fuckin' strange but it's really startin' to seem that way." Nero said it as though it was completely inconceivable.

Dante rolled his eyes at his idiocy, before twitching with realization.

"What? You gave her your number? Wait. . . I don't even have your number!" he whined, looking at Nero accusingly. It looked more and more like the kid was gonna be a handful. Whether it was Nero being naive or just dumb as a rock, Dante could already tell he was going to be busting his ass keeping him in line.

It was a good thing Dante's hair couldn't get any whiter. This shit was fucking ridiculous.

Dante growled. "Just. . . cut her off or something. Don't pick up when she calls. She's after you and she has this weird kink for your arm. Why's she tellin' you this shit, anyway? Is this fuckin' sabotage or something? I can't fuckin' stand her," he sniped. "I'm gonna have to go scare her off you or-"

"You liked her enough to bone her, along with half of the Capulet metro area," Nero replied flatly, shoving Dante with a huff of irritation. "What, so you'd just prefer I didn't hear it from anyone? I know I'm being lame about it, but you. . . Dante, it's not even at the level of being kind of old-"

"Hey!" Dante interjected. Nero didn't even pause.

"-and having past experiences that go with it. It's like. . . you've practically taken the census with your dick!" He scowled. "I'm at a total disadvantage. I'll always have you treating me like I'm some little kid compared to you. That sucks, man. What if I screwed my way across town, huh? How would you like that?"

Dante embraced Nero tightly, a tide of anxiety rising inside him. Every single cell in his body was in revolt over Nero thinking about going on some kind of sexual odyssey without him. With other people. Other people touching Nero, who was his now.

Yeah, Nero was his. That was never gonna change. No matter what shit Dante had said about 'giving it a shot' while doing a poor job of acting cool and casual, there was nothing temporary about it. He fully intended to be one of those 'free trial' subscriptions that abruptly became not free. . . and then became impossible to stop without complicated forms, letters to congress, credit card cancellations, name changes, and entry into a witness protection program.

He could have sworn he heard some kind of deranged howling in the back of his mind at the thought of Nero having been with lots of other people. Yeah, from his perspective, Dante spreading himself around in the past - maybe it wasn't fair. Maybe it sucked. But that didn't change things in the here and now, and Dante wasn't gonna let this kind of shit slide and get worse.

They belonged to each other now, and as far as Dante was concerned, there was nothing short of death that could make him let go. The idea of his mate having fucked around like that, even in the past. . . well, it hit Dante like a hammer to the gut. . . let alone if Nero decided he was gonna try to make Dante cool his heels while he tried to catch up. No way in hell was that gonna happen.

Nero didn't have it in him to do things casual, so he'd have all these exes. Dante would be running himself ragged making damned sure they weren't trailing around after his baby like goldfish shit, trying to get back in with him. Just the thought made Dante feel like breaking shit.

So, if Nero felt like Dante's history was too much to handle, Dante was in deep shit. He wouldn't let Nero slip away - not ever, especially over something this bird-brained stupid - but, fuck. Even if Dante snapped and tried to tie Nero down, the other man wouldn't stand for being treated like that. It would only make things worse. When Nero felt trapped, he ran. He'd run from Fortuna with nothing, after all.

The howling in his head got louder and more anguished as he imagined Nero just up and leaving him, and Dante felt his skin prickling. Shit, shit, shit, this was really getting bad. He took some deep breaths to try to calm down, and closed his eyes.

"Nero. I can't change what's in the past. Don't say you're wanting to be with other people. Don't break me down like that."

When Dante opened his eyes, Nero didn't look pissed anymore - more like worried - and maybe a bit concerned that Dante was going to squish him to death.

Shit, Nero had felt him start to trigger. And Dante _was _squishing him. He loosened his grip a bit, allowing Nero to breathe again.

"Whoa. . ." he exclaimed, still short of breath. "I know I'm being stupid and it's not like I'd ever do that." He hesitated. "I didn't mean to freak you out and uh. . . I'll get over it. But I feel a bit like I finally got the bicycle I always wanted. And it turned out everyone already got to ride it, and the seat's conformed to the asses of several-" Nero swallowed at Dante's stricken look. "Yeah, I'm just gonna shut my face now. I'm sorry."

Dante scowled. "I wish you could have been born earlier, found me when we were teenagers. Then I would have had all this time to be with you. But no, you left me waiting around and I killed time." He looked at the man in his arms "It wasn't even that fun. It's your fault. I could have been havin' you instead. What were you doing at that time that was so important, anyway? Tryin' to grow pubes? Waiting for your balls to drop? Lazy asshole. . . god, I'm so fucking pissed at you."

Nero was making the least impressed facial expression Dante had ever seen. "Wow," he said in a near-monotone. "I was feeling bad for a second there. But your attempts to turn this around on me have resulted in a classic backfire situation."

Dante sighed and pushed his nose against Nero's so he could peer into the deep blue. "I love you - you don't even get how much, Nero. You're the only guy I've been with. You're the only person who's ever going to plant your flag in this fine ass - see? I saved things for you."

Nero narrowed his eyes, looking pensive. He bit his lip, before conceding. "Well. Okay."

"Nero," Dante said seriously, "I'm yours. So far as I'm concerned there's only ever gonna be you now. So stop thinking about irrelevant shit, all right? It's just making trouble when there's nothing there."

"Fine," Nero grumbled. "I bet I wouldn't even be able to kiss someone else without imagining you getting really upset, anyway. Kinda kills my boner."

Dante pinched Nero's side, eliciting a hiss of pain. "Upset? I'd show you fuckin' upset!" Dante retorted. "After I showed up, they'd never be able to look at you again without crapping their pants, remembering what happened. I don't kill humans, but I can lay down some serious mental scarring, so don't do that to someone. It's not nice. More importantly, it'll smell real bad being surrounded by people in shitty pants. So don't do it."

"Gross. Holy fuck," Nero remarked, looking at Dante strangely. "Uhh, I had no idea you were such a psycho."

"Yeah, well I am now. Anyway, that stuff in the past doesn't matter anymore because all of thish love ish for you." Dante announced dramatically, making a grand gesture with the arm that wasn't holding the younger man.

Nero squinted at him. "Uh, Dante."

"Whath?"

"Where'd you get that rose from?"

"Twade shecweth," he replied.

Nero, looking unsettled, removed the single rose from between Dante's teeth, stared at it for a second as though he were checking that it was real, and then threw it across the room. "Seriously. Where the fuck were you hiding that?"

Dante wiggled his eyebrows. "Can't tell you." He leered. "Why, baby - do you wanna do a cavity search?"

Nero groaned and covered his face with his hand. "You're right. This is where romance comes to die. We fuckin' killed it. It's done."

Dante took offense to that. "What the hell are you talking about? I had a rose in my teeth just now. My teeth! The romance rating on that is through the fuckin' roof!" He gathered Nero up in his arms and kissed his neck. Stupid fucking hickeys just didn't stick; he was going to be busy all the fucking time.

"Dunno about that," Nero scoffed, clearly unconvinced. "Usually you throw a rose and shit starts exploding, things start dying, mines collapse, stuff gets lit on fire and goes flying everywhere. . ."

"See?" Dante argued in a reasonable voice, since Nero had just proved his point. "I'm totally romantic! You know you love that stuff - I mean, you get this little sparkle in your eye when things blow up, and there's fire everywhere, and all the crumbling rubble. . . you know you love that, baby."

Nero sighed. "Well. . . yeah, you're right. I guess I do like that shit." He was threading his fingers through Dante's hair, and the light tugs and touches on his scalp felt like heaven. He just lay there and basked for a little bit, feeling himself sink into warm contentment. He was certain that he must have the dopiest smile on his face.

"Mmm." Dante pressed little kisses to Nero's temples and forehead. "So, this is the plan. We're sleeping in tomorrow, and I'm getting cuddles." He moved to Nero's mouth, sucking gently on his lower lip, eyes drifting closed as Nero's tongue came out to play. "Mm. Where was I? Oh yeah, you've been giving my cuddles to the undeserving, and by that I mean Lady who is totally skimming off the top. That's called embezzlement. You can use that term when you tell her to fuck off; she responds well to business talk."

Nero grunted, not meeting Dante's eyes. "I dunno what you're talking about. And there is no way I'm lazing around in bed tomorrow."

"Nice table-hopper. Don't think I didn't notice," Dante muttered, recalling Nero's docile lack of reaction to Lady's creepy fondling. "Now, I'm not going to ask you how far that went. Your junk ain't mangled, so she probably hasn't gotten past second base with you. But don't think I'm happy about it, and don't think I'm just gonna let it go."

"Oh look," Nero observed in a dry voice, even as he snuggled closer. "It sounds like someone is trying to tell me that what happened before we hooked up is somehow his business. That's a pretty fuckin' quick turnaround on that issue. What was that? Literally three minutes?"

Dante just scowled. Yeah. . . he just wasn't gonna win that one, so he'd just have to ignore it for now. "And about tomorrow, punk - I'm your boss-"

Nero snorted, and then smacked Dante on the ass.

"Ow!" Dante yelped. "Hey! I'm putting a note about that in your HR file! As your boss, I'm telling you to stay here so I can sexually harass you." He stroked Nero's back.

Nero lay curled up on his side in the circle of Dante's arms, looking drowsy. "Nope. I got business to take care of early in the morning."

"And what's that exactly?" Dante grumbled. "I'm your boss!" he reiterated. If he started harping on this now, Dante hoped that - at some point - it would take. He had to grab all the advantages he could get right here and now. It was starting to look like he was gonna need it with Nero.

"No Dante, what you are is seriously fuckin' high-maintenance," Nero yawned. "I mean, really - give me a break here."

Dante's eye twitched. "Yeah? High-maintenance? You damned punk. . . you've been yankin' me around for ages and torturing me with how hot you are, you clueless fuck!" he argued. "Pay attention to me Nero, I've been starving, totally suffering over you! You need to be good to me from now on. I don't like it when your crappy business is more important than me, and I don't like it when you got shit you can't tell me about!"

Nero looked up and smiled then - a sweet smile that made Dante forget that he'd been really ticked off.

"My business is. . . well, she's sleeping now. So rather than piss her off, I'm gonna call this lady in the morning and sort some shit out that I can't talk about. . . _yet_. 'Cause, see, there's this cow, and it's told me that I've gotta buy it. Or brand it, or give it jewelry - I dunno, it's shitty at metaphors - but it's awesome." Nero bit his lip and rubbed his nose. "It makes me laugh, it makes me act all jealous an' shit. It just makes me happy, and I wanna stay in its barn, annnd. . . I just wanna be together. So. Bad." Nero's face was so close that Dante could see the little flecks of colour in the irises of his eyes.

"So," Nero breathed slowly, "that's why I need to get up and settle some stuff," he concluded, his smile growing warmer, softer. And his eyes, so damned blue, looking at Dante as though he. . .

Oh, man. Dante felt his heart swell. Any more and it would be a serious mess of blood and gore. He shifted closer to Nero.

Nero's heart-stopping smile had rendered Dante completely useless and non-verbal. All he could do was watch, memorizing every detail of his face, until those intense blue eyes started to close. After a few minutes, Nero gave in to slumber. . . and started making a noise that resembled the dying throes of a broken weed-whacker.

Dante barely heard it.

That smile - that look. They were beautiful - and his, all his. Nero was his, for real. Goddamn.

"Nero," Dante whispered when he recovered his wits enough to form words. It was difficult, considering it felt like his brain was going to run out of his ears. He was reeling from the overload of happiness hitting his system once he'd realized what that look meant.

"You love me. Baby, you love me - it really happened. . . holy shit!" Dante curled his body around Nero's, wrapping his arm around the younger man as if he were worried he'd disappear. He peppered Nero's sleeping face with kisses.

The strange grinding, wheezing sound that Nero had been emitting abruptly ceased. "Whah?" he asked groggily as he tried to protect his cheeks from Dante's scruffy chin. "Scratchy. . . Whass goin' on. . ."

"Only the best night of my fuckin' life," Dante whispered sincerely, kissing Nero's forehead.

Nero gave him a punch to the ribs that lacked any conviction or force. "Tomorrow's gonna be way better," he returned in a sleepy voice. "You gotta stop overreactin' to every little thing, such a spaz," Nero mumbled before tucking his head into Dante's neck, lips pressing against his collarbone. "'Night babe," Nero yawned before dozing off, his arm curling around Dante's waist and glowing like a bright little beacon.

Dante's eyes started drifting shut. His stupid smile just refused to fade. So warm.

All his life, Dante had lost at every imaginable game of chance. He wondered now if he'd actually been saving all his luck up so he could use it all up winning this one huge jackpot.

Dante could live with that. It was more than worth it.

* * *

**AN** - One more chapter, then epilogue. Sorry if this was too long winded, but I have now come to terms that I'm incapable of writing short love scenes. I'm also incapable of having people not talk massive amounts while making out. I thought this was just an idiosyncrasy from this other thing I wrote before, but no. Apparently it's just what I do. Ugh.

Dante gets to be stupidly happy now, after all his suffering! The dude's cheesy as hell, too - just seems to be built like that.

Please let me know if you find typos. Comments and criticism are wonderful. Thanks again to those who have left reviews for me; I have a hard time writing lovins so they helped get me through this as usual! And for the love of god if someone feels the need to report, get in touch with me first with deets on what needs to change and we can do this amicable-like.

**Edit**: I put a youtube playlist together with the chapter songs if anyone is curious what they sound like:  
tinyurl dotcom slash holdingpatternsongs (you know how to make it work).

The Kills - Last Day of Magic  
Wolf Parade - Ghost Pressure  
Lykke Li - Everybody But Me  
Metric - Black Sheep  
The Dear Hunter - Red Hands  
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Maps  
Kaskade - 4 AM (Live in Studio)  
The Kills - Sour Cherry  
Japandroids - The House that Heaven Built

-Volpa


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